Hourglass
by ThereAreNoLines
Summary: After the fallout of her relationship with Hanna, Spencer makes the trip home to Rosewood for her ten year high school reunion, only to discover things have changed more dramatically than she could have ever imagined. Sequel to Axis.
1. Whirlwinds

And as promised, the first chapter of the sequel to the infamous _Axis._ A few notes before we begin:

-If you haven't read Axis, go and do that IMMEDIATELY. Nothing in this will make sense if you don't read it. I am not exaggerating.

-If you don't like the way I write/the stories I choose to tell, don't read. It's as simple as that.

-I absolutely love and adore every single review I get, even if I don't respond. If you don't want to review here, drop me a message at my tumblr. (The url is spencerpls.)

And without further ado:

* * *

Jumping to conclusions had gotten Spencer Hastings in a lot of trouble in her life. A lot of the entire A fiasco in her childhood could have been avoided if she'd just taken a minute to stop and breathe and really consider what she was thinking about doing. After the tumultuous atmosphere of her youth had passed, she never desired to repeat any of the aspects of that period ever again. First step was to change herself and her tendencies, and pray that the rest of the world would follow suit, and that the universe would stop making her its bitch. Jumping to conclusions had to be the first thing to go.

But standing there, watching Hanna chastise her apparent son when Spencer had last known her to be alone and childless five years ago, she couldn't help but let the preemptive conclusions rush in. Ideas of lies and protective conspiracies flooded in, making her so dizzy that she had to lean against the marble wall of the hotel for support. It didn't help, of course, to have the sudden shock of seeing her again, with no warning, no time to prepare, nothing. Never before in her life had Spencer felt so unhinged in one single moment, not even after they'd broken up the first time, although that came close. That time, and this time, she had felt so violated, having everything cast onto her without any warning and certainly without her consent.

"God, this is…so messed up." Spencer finally looked up to accidentally lock eyes with Hanna as she spoke. God, she looked good, as strange as she felt thinking that. Her hair fell in soft, straight layers to her shoulders, but not past them. She was wearing glass with dark, thick frames, the square angles of the lenses neatly framing her still bright eyes and her impossibly long lashes. She was dressed smartly, in blazer and blouse over jeans and sensible heels, leaving Spencer feeling woefully inadequate in her coffee stained shirt and sneakers. "Liam, here." Hanna shoved what looked like twenty dollars' worth of quarters into the boy's hands, his hazel eyes getting wide as he gazed down at them. "Go play in the arcade down the hall, I need to...do something, just go." She shooed him away before looking back at Spencer.

Spencer found herself backing down the hallway away from Hanna as though she was a predator ready to strike. She did feel rather prey-like in this situation, all vulnerable and unsuspecting as a huge bombshell crept up behind her, taking the form of a lost little boy's harried mother, and also her ex. "Is that how you lost him in the first place?"

Hanna's eyes narrowed slightly, and she took her glasses off, unable to conceal the brief expression of hurt that flashed across her features. "He's adventurous, he wanders off. I figured a leash would be just a little bit inhumane."

"Right, well…" Spencer trailed off, taking stock of herself. God, she was toxic. Just being around her made her feel feverish, in both good and bad ways, which made her hate herself. Even with everything that had happened between them, all of the wrongs they had both committed, the attraction hadn't died. That terrified her. There was no telling what mistakes she was liable to make, especially in such a fragile emotional state. What was wrong with her? "I should be going." She began to back away.

"No, wait." Before Spencer could dodge her, Hanna reached forward, grabbing her wrist, stopping her. "Please, it's…Liam…it isn't what you think."

"I don't think anything, Hanna." Spencer lied. She thought so many things, she didn't know what one she actually believed. "And it really isn't any of my business, so…" She tugged her wrist out of Hanna's grip. "If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

_Get away from her._ That was the mantra that screamed in her head over and over again. The true extent of Hanna's toxicity and her reaction to it was really starting to hit her full force, with every conflicting feeling she could ever possibly have about the woman gathering in her chest. The polarizing storm of emotions felt like it was literally about to tear her apart. It was all she could do to keep her expression flat and walk away with her dignity before she broke down quietly in her room. (Or not quietly at all, as it would probably end up.)

"Spencer…Spencer!" Spencer kept walking, even while hearing Hanna's heels clicking down the hallway after her. She was strong, she could fight this, she wasn't going to spend any more time around her than –

"Wren's dead."

- necessary.

Spencer turned on her back heel, the split emotions at bay for the moment, instead feeling herself fill with a more indeterminate mixture of emotions. "I didn't…what does that have to do with anything?" She asked finally, the wind taken out of her defiance.

"Because…" Hanna sighed as she caught up to her. "Can we sit down or something? It's a really long story, and if I try to tell you now, you're just going to start jumping off to conclusions and storming off, and despite what you might think, I don't want you to hate me."

Spencer was hurt for a moment until she remembered she'd just spent the past five minutes jumping to conclusions. She wrapped her arms around her chest, considering this for a moment. She was being asked to break every single rule she had set for herself before she'd left New York. But this was Wren, and as much as she regretted what had happened, as badly as it had ended, she had still cared about him, fallen for him, at one point. "…there's a park across the street from the coffee shop a block away. We can go there, because if I'm going to do this, I need coffee."

"Alright." Hanna said, nodding her head rapidly, making her look almost puppy-like, especially when she put her glasses back on. "Liam, come on!" She called, and sure enough, the boy came trotting over after a moment, arms wrapped around a large and cheaply made stuffed animal, something that resembled a lion, but in fluorescent colors.

"I beat the claw machine, mom!" He said excitedly, too wrapped up in his victory to notice that the two women were leaving the hotel, following after them obediently. "And it only took six quarters."

"That's better than last time!" Hanna laughed, resting her hand on Liam's head. Spencer had to admit, Hanna seemed like a good mother – she'd always thought that she'd be, even back then, when she thought kids were a long way off, and that things were going to work out. "What are you going to name him?"

"She's a girl lion, and I don't know yet!" Liam said, shrugging. "Can you hold her while I go play?" He shoved the stuffed animal at Spencer, to her surprise.

"I…of course." Spencer said, after a long moment, taking the stuffed animal from him. "I'll take very good care of her, promise."

"Okay!" Liam beamed, scampering off into the park as Hanna led Spencer across the street. Even for being in the middle of town on a Saturday afternoon, it was relatively silent – or perhaps it was just due to the tension in the air between them, making it so thick that nothing could reach through. She wouldn't have been surprised. Each moment they were in close proximity added something else to it, an old memory, a new feeling, or old feelings tied up with the memories, until Spencer was sure she'd lived the past eleven years in the preceding two minutes.

"I'll watch him from here." Spencer said, sinking down into an ornate metal chair on the patio of the coffee shop, needing respite, just for a moment. "You know what I like…it hasn't changed."

"Of course it hasn't." Hanna said, with a soft sort of smile that caused an ache of nostalgia to bounce around her chest like the sound of church bells, carrying for miles on a clear summer day. She brushed the feathery edged waves of her hair out of her face, letting the smile linger before it faded into measured indifference. "I'll be right back." She said. Spencer looked away until the bell on the door rang twice to signify she was gone.

God, where did she even start? First of all, she had done the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn't do, knew that she couldn't do without any serious emotional ramifications. Second of all, the amount of questions it caused to crash down on her was positively dizzying. She closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands. What did Hanna have to tell her? What did Wren have to do with any of it? How had Wren died in the first place?

But the question she found that was grating at her most was how was Hanna so calm? Or rather, how could she keep such a flat façade? Spencer knew her own was cracking and dissolving more and more by the second, but Hanna looked as perfectly placated as ever, and that worried her more than she ever cared to admit. Hanna had always been ruled by her emotions, and that wasn't something that changed overnight, or even in five years or ten years. But there was no sign of anything left over, and Spencer had to wonder…did Hanna care as much as she did? Did she even care at all?

And this was exactly why she promised herself she wouldn't do this.

Spencer glanced up to make sure Liam was still at the park, waving slightly when he looked up from his action figures, playing in the dust, away from the other children. She wondered, briefly, what kept him separate from the other children, what it was about him that they didn't like. He was smart, outgoing, precocious…of course she had only known him for about fifteen minutes at most, so she couldn't be an accurate judge. Not that she should be so invested in the child of her ex-girlfriend already, or ever.

"Here." Spencer glanced over as a large cardboard cup was set on the glass table in front of her. "I hope I got it right, it's been awhile." Hanna said, sitting down across the table from her, perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around, of all things, an iced green tea.

Spencer took a sip from her cup after contemplating this curiosity. "Large brewed coffee with four shots of espresso, sugar, no cream." She glanced up at Hanna. "It's perfect, thank you." She drank some more, instantly feeling a little more bolstered against her own emotions. "So what do you have to tell me? And why does Wren have anything to do with it?"

Hanna took a deep breath, averting her eyes, leaning down and sipping from her green tea for a moment. "Wren is Liam's father." The outpouring of outraged, negative emotions began almost instantly, but was cut short as Hanna finished the sentence. "…but I am not his biological mother."

"What?" Spencer said, physically jarred from how suddenly her reaction was cut off. "I don't understand…"

"It was five years ago, just after I left…well, you know." She muttered quickly, sucking down more green tea, letting the awkward air settle before continuing. "And I went home, I was…well, at any rate, I came here. And Wren was back, working at the hospital, and I ran into him, and he took me out for a drink. Turns out, he had been sleeping with this woman, and she'd gotten pregnant and had split after Liam was born. He was running ragged trying to keep up with his work and take care of him, and he had enlisted in the Army as a medic just after we graduated, so he had that to deal with too…I felt so bad for him." Hanna sighed heavily. Spencer tried to reserve judgment. "I was lonely too. I had nowhere to go. We never really…dealt with what had happened between us, or rather what _didn't._ I didn't really know what was happening, but…it happened. Like a whirlwind" She glanced down.

"So how did he die?" Spencer asked, taking all of this in, trying desperately not to react until she knew the whole story. "And how did you end up with Liam?"

"He was sent overseas. Two years ago." Hanna said, eyes getting misty for a moment. This time, it was Spencer's turn to look away, she couldn't stand it. "I opened the door three months later and two officers handed me a folded flag, and…the entire whirlwind just stopped short, and I didn't know what to do with myself."

"I'm sorry." Spencer said honestly, nursing her coffee, feeling her own, deep down pang of sadness. "He didn't deserve that. And Liam didn't deserve to lose his father." Suddenly, much more about Liam made sense to her, and even more than before, her heart went out to him, making her momentarily forget herself – there were bigger things, after all.

"Yeah, I worry about him." Hanna's gaze drifted to the park, and Spencer saw what she had known all along – Hanna absolutely loved that boy, even if he wasn't technically her own son. That was just who she was, who she had always been, and it was slightly comforting to Spencer, to know that there was something about her that hadn't changed.

She mentally slapped herself before her brain went down that road again. "So, if you're not his real mother, how did you end up with him?"

"Well…" Hanna said, suddenly taking on a nervous air, clasping her necklace in her hand. "His mother gave up her parental rights, and I adopted him…just after Wren and I got married." She added, after a long pause.

Spencer's coffee cup almost exploded in her hand as her grip tightened. Just when she'd though she'd gotten over the shock of seeing her and everything that followed, she dropped that bomb on her, led her to step on that emotional land mine. She wanted to not care, that was what she wanted most in the world, but she couldn't not care about Hanna and what she did…that was an impossibility. "I…oh." She said softly, nodding as Hanna showed her the necklace, on which a wedding ring and a large engagement ring dangled. "I see." She swallowed hard, her stomach in knots as she thought about them together, feeling physically sick. This was Hanna's life, and after what had occurred, she had no right to be upset, but that could never stop her. She had convinced herself for years that things were different now, that she'd moved on, that she would never let Hanna and her life get to her, but she was suddenly forced to realize that she hadn't moved on at all, and she was still the same seventeen year old girl, watching from afar, left out in the cold.

"Spencer, I – "

"Did you love him?" Spencer found herself asking, before she could stop the question. She didn't even feel bad for it. She needed to know.

Hanna looked at her for a long moment, and Spencer searched her expression, but found nothing, infuriatingly. "Now that..._that's_ none of your business." She said quietly.

And just like that, she reached her limit. She couldn't handle any more. She couldn't listen to her voice or look at her face for one more second or she was going to lose it. "I should go." She said, with a sharp nod, standing up. "Thanks for the coffee."

Hanna stood up as well, and Spencer spared one more glance at her. Her expression was slowly filling up with a million words and emotions, her mask of true indifference finally broken. Spencer could only manage a small and sick sense of victory from that. "I…Spencer…"

"No, I…need to get ready." Spencer said, standing up. "And…and everything. I'll see you later." She said, although it was hard to disguise the fact that she was looking forward to it with dread, and not pleasant anticipation. She shattered their eye contact after a long moment, although she knew she'd never forget the look in Hanna's eyes, and she hated herself for it. "…bye." She turned away from her, and began walking down the street, not even realizing that Liam's lion was still clasped loosely in her hand.

The sad thing was that she knew this was a whirlwind, just like Hanna had said. She just didn't know if it had just started, or if it had come to a close.

* * *

"Alright, get up!" Spencer shrieked as she was suddenly thrown to the floor, the sheets jerked out from under her – metaphorically speaking, this time. She rubbed her still aching head, pushing herself upright to find Aria staring at her from the other side of the bed. "I got your message. And we have to be there in an hour, and you're not even ready yet." Aria tossed some clothes at her. "Talk and get dressed at the same time, I know you're a good multitasker."

"I'm having an existential crisis right now, Aria…or whatever." Spencer waved her off, hauling herself back onto the bed, lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her mind had come to a standstill while processing all of this, it was all too much for her to handle, especially when faced with the prospect of seeing her again in only an hour. "Did you know about all of this?"

"Not…all of it." Aria said evasively, before sighing and crawling onto the bed next to her. "You told me that you didn't want to hear another word about Hanna as long as you lived, so I listened to you. You should be thanking me for being such a good friend." She patted her knee.

Spencer shot Aria a look. "You didn't think that it would be a good idea to, I don't know, bring it up over coffee any of the hundreds of times we've gone? Just a simple 'Hey, Spence, how was your day? By the way, Hanna's getting married to _Wren._'? That didn't cross your mind at all?"

"No, I didn't think it was a good idea, actually." Aria said. "I didn't want you going all King Kong on me, and doing something drastic."

"…do I really read as that unhinged?" Spencer returned her gaze to the ceiling after a moment. Well, that was something to chew on. She'd always prided herself on her ability to hide her pain, but if that was really the case, she wasn't as good at it as she thought she was. That would almost certainly bring trouble.

"Not exactly." Aria said, once again in the evasive tone that made Spencer worry. "And that's not the point. The point is, you and Hanna have both moved on, at least at face value, and you need to stick to that. I love you, Spencer, but neither of you two needs to go down that road again. You ripped each other apart."

"You say that like I don't know it." Spencer said, closing her eyes. "And who said I was thinking about going down that road again? We have two completely different lives now. It's not going to work. Even more than it never worked before."

"Good. Now just keep telling yourself that." Aria said, sitting up. "And you'll be able to get through tonight unscathed."

"I don't know why I even came to this thing in the first place." Spencer moaned, dragging a pillow over her face. "There's no one I care enough about to face the firing squad in order to see again. I mean, think about it." She peered out from under the pillow at Aria. "My family and I are at odds, I see you in New York all the time, Emily doesn't talk to me anymore, Hanna is…well, we already covered that topic…there's no one else. All everyone ever knew about us was the whole A thing. By the end of it all, they looked at us like we were in a fishbowl. Why would I want to catch up with those people?"

"So you're saying that there's no one." Aria confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "No one you want to see again after all this time?"

Spencer was suddenly assaulted by a strong memory of Kyle, the desire to talk to her again flickering through her unexpectedly. "I…no." She said, swallowing it down. She didn't want to think about what it meant, and that alone meant that it meant something. Of course she would want to see her again, the woman that had helped her so much, but demanded so little in return. So why did she feel the need to conceal it?

"Liar." Aria pushed her shoulder gently.

"Maybe if we'd stuck to that promise we made to never lie again, things would be different." Spencer sighed, ignoring her accusation. "…yeah, that's it, I'm not going, I'm just going to lie here all night and get drunk off the mini bar."

"Nuh uh." Aria said, getting up and going over to Spencer's suitcases, pulling stuff out. "You're going. You didn't come all this way and brave all of these emotional landmines to not go." She tossed a sleek looking, wine-red dress at her, followed by a black shrug, which landed on her face. "Come on, get dressed, I'll try to do something with your hair."

"You're not making the mini bar any less appealing!" Spencer said, not moving other than to tug the black fabric off her face.

"Why rack up a not-so-mini bill here, when you can go drink for free and laugh at how much of a failure everyone from high school is?" Aria asked, unzipping her make-up bag. "Come on. Relationship status aside, you're a successful assistant campaign manager with a one way ticket to a job at the office of the mayor of New York City." Aria said. "Have some pride. You're way better off than some of these people, trust me. I've been home more recently than you. It's going to be a shit show of the 'mom jean' variety. No one will remember or care about A or Hanna or anything when they take one look at you and how successful you've been. Plus, you were Valedictorian. I'm sure you like…have to give a speech or something."

"Speaking of mom jeans." Spencer finally sat up, neglecting to mention that her speech was shoved in the bottom of her second suitcase. "How's Malcolm?"

"He's a sixteen year old boy." Aria shrugged, walking over, placing make-up in her hands. "Put that on. But yeah, he's…well, he's spectacularly well behaved about ninety percent of the time, which I credit Ezra for, but the other ten percent, he's not too keen about the whole 'step mom' thing. It's just because he's a teenager, I mean, I went through that too."

"He'll come around." Spencer assured her, finally standing up, stripping off her still coffee stained top, thankful the focus was off of her for a second. "He's Ezra's kid, I mean, he can't exactly have too many rebellious bones in his body."

Aria nodded her agreement. "He's a good kid at heart." She sat down behind her, pulling her hands through Spencer's shortened hair. "Did you cut this recently, or has it really been that long since I've seen you?"

"…recently." Spencer answered, reluctant to talk about her emotional attack the night before she left , where, in a moment of crisis, she'd chopped a good chunk of her long hair off. "Looks more professional anyway. So, kids…" She glanced back at her, changing the subject. "Are you and Ezra…?"

"Nothing yet." Aria sighed, tweaking the ends of her hair. "Two years of nothing. We're going to a fertility doctor next week to see what's wrong. I mean…clearly Ezra has no trouble getting anyone pregnant, so more than likely, there's something wrong with _my _pipes."

Spencer turned to look at her friend, the one person who had been at her side no matter what had happened to her. "It will happen." She assured her gently. It was the least she could do. "One way or another. The Aria Montgomery-Fitz I know never gives up."

Aria laughed a little, leaning in and kissing her cheek. "The Spencer Hastings that I know needs to shut up and get ready." She plucked the hem of the tank top she'd been wearing underneath the coffee stained shirt. "Come on. Get dressed while _I _look at the mini bar." Aria slid off the bed with a smile.

"If this goes wrong, it's all your fault for making me go!" Spencer said, shifting off her lounge pants as Aria turned away from her.

"It's not going to go wrong, but I will gladly accept that challenge." She said. "Remind me to stay here next time, there are many more choices than at Mom's Bed and Breakfast."

Once she'd shimmied into different undergarments and the dress, Spencer moved over to Aria, hugging her from behind. "Thanks." She sighed heavily. "For everything."

"No problem, Spence." Aria turned in her arms, hugging her back tightly. "Anything for you."

* * *

Spencer stared at the long table that was sporadically dotted with name tags. It was draped with a sky blue tablecloth, as per the school's colors, and each white name tag looked like a separate little cloud against it. Gathering storm clouds, she thought to herself, before she swallowed hard, approaching the next available registrar. "Hi, I'm – "

"Spencer Hastings, as I live and breathe." Spencer was stuck, like a slap in the face, by the heavy southern accent in the woman's voice. She looked closer at her, and realized she had been on the field hockey team with her, a girl named Tegan, who had apparently left Rosewood just as quickly as she had. She had just flown south. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Oh, you'd be surprised…" Spencer said, letting out an awkward half chuckle that Tegan didn't seem to notice.

"Let me just check you off here." The short haired blonde chewed on her lower lip, a habit she remembered from back then, running an index finger down the list strapped to the clipboard. "And there you are." She pointed a little ways down the table towards her nametag. "How have you been, darlin'?"

Maybe Aria had been right. She stifled a laugh, sighing. "You know, college, work, paying rent…the usual." She said, a sudden thought striking her. "Hey, could you tell me if Kyle Laughlin is going to be here? She was that student teacher we had senior year, for all the government classes."

"Right! Let me take a look…" Tegan looked thoughtful as she scanned the list. "No, I'm sorry…I know we invited her, I mean, she's a full time teacher at the school now, but it doesn't look like she even got back to us. There are some other teachers here, though." She said, looking a bit like a puppy who wanted to please her.

"Right." Spencer said, sighing, hiding the frisson of disappointment that ran through her at the thought of not seeing Kyle there. If she still lived in town, though, it probably wouldn't be hard to get in touch with her…maybe she should have done that instead of coming here. "Thank you anyway." She said.

"Mhm, mhm, no problem." Tegan said. "Just grab your name tag, it's happy hour, you can go mingle. I'm sure you have plenty of exciting stories to tell."

"Yeah." Spencer answered shortly, offering her a weak smile as she moved down the table, locating her name tag after a cursory glance over the table. With morbid curiosity, she let her eyes wander. She noted, with an unpleasant taste in her mouth, that one name tag was annoyingly emblazoned with the name 'Caleb Rivers,' meaning he'd more than likely be showing up at some point. "Just something else to look forward to." She muttered under her breath to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. If there was one person she had wanted to see even less than Hanna, it was him.

Aria's name tag was gone, Emily's wasn't, and neither was Hanna's, she realized, with a resigned sigh. Of course, this could be a good thing. Maybe she would chicken out and the event wouldn't turn into a clusterfuck by the end. Slightly bolstered by this, she fastened her own name tag onto her dress, sticking herself with the pin as someone tapped on her shoulder. "Shit!"

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" Spencer turned to lay eyes on none other than Paige McCullers. Like Tegan had so unabashedly exclaimed about Spencer, she hadn't changed a bit. Literally. It was like she had walked out of the yearbook. "Had I known you were handling sharp objects, I wouldn't have been so spontaneous."

Spencer laughed a little – somehow, even though she was talking to Emily's girlfriend, (at least, she thought they were still girlfriends,) it didn't feel even the least bit awkward. "It'll heal." She said, finding herself smiling. "How have you been?"

"Emily and I have been great." Paige replied, which answered Spencer's question. "She's still swimming, down in Boston. She made it all the way to the Olympics. Helped the relay team take silver."

"I know." Spencer said, with a small smile. "I watched the whole thing. Cheered her on."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to hear that." Paige said, and just like that, the conversation went a direction spencer prayed it wouldn't. She was there, yes, but not in the interest of rebuilding bridges that had been burned long ago. She was in survival mode, looking for nothing more than a badge of honor to wear back to New York. She was there to prove that she could do it, and for no other reason.

"I…I should be heading inside." Spencer said, trying to duck away from her. "But tell her I said hi."

"You can tell her yourself, she's right there." Spencer swallowed hard as she turned to see Emily walking down the hallway towards them. Like Paige, and apparently herself, she hadn't changed much. She was perhaps a bit more muscular, wearing her hair slightly shorter, her features more well defined. She was clad in a purple wrap dress, similar to Spencer's own, if anything, just a different color. There was a slight pause in her stride as she noticed Spencer, but she then continued as nothing had happened.  
"Spencer, I didn't expect to see you here." She said smoothly as she approached them. "Paige, did you get my nametag?" She suddenly switched subjects, leaving Spencer feeling like she had whiplash.

"I did." She held it out to her, snatching it back at the last second. "But I'm holding it hostage until you two talk." She kissed Emily's cheek before she could get out a word of protest, and left them alone in the hallway.

After a long moment, Spencer raised her gaze to meet Emily's and found hers to be just as apprehensive as she was sure hers was. She cleared her throat, suddenly finding it dry. "Hey…it's been awhile."  
"It has." Emily said, nodding, folding her coat over her arm. "How have you been, Spencer?"

Spencer sighed. "Miserable." She said honestly. "And part of the reason for that is the fact that one of my best friends hasn't said a word to me for five years. Five years, Emily, I know she's your best friend, but…haven't you punished me enough yet? Considering that she wasn't exactly innocent, I – "

"Blaming Hanna for your mistake isn't going to get you anywhere." Emily cut her off quietly.

"Right…I'm sorry." Spencer said honestly, swallowing her pride, or at least what little of it she had left. "Look, Emily…we've been through so much together…and I know that this schism is mostly my fault. But it's been years, and I miss my friend. And if you could find it in yourself to at least ignore, if not forget, everything that's happened…I would really appreciate it. Tonight is already hard enough as it is."

Emily was quiet for a long time, before she nodded, much to Spencer's surprise. "I think I can manage that." She said softly, and before Spencer could react, she hugged her. "I miss you too."

Spencer let out a sigh of relief as she hugged Emily back. If there had been anything she'd wanted to accomplish by going there that night, it was getting Emily back. The fact that she had actually managed to do it without screwing up, before the night had really even begun was just icing on the cake.

"Emily?!" The sound of a familiar voice, however, made her fleeting moment of peace shatter around her. No. Not yet. She hadn't had nearly enough time to prepare herself. Even after seeing her this morning, she was still completely immobilized by her. After Emily had torn herself from her arms, Spencer finally forced herself to turn and look at Hanna. She looked even better than before. She'd lost the glasses and darkened her eye make-up. She'd straightened her hair. She'd slid on a shiny, gold lamé skirt and a black, long sleeved top with a modest neck. She looked fantastic. And even though Spencer knew, as everyone had assured her, that she herself hadn't changed a bit, Hanna had gone one step further and had gotten better with age.

She watched Hanna and Emily embrace, and suddenly, she was sixteen again, before any of it started, where the worst enemy she had was A and not herself. When things were simpler. When the four of them had each other, unconditionally, no matter what. A bittersweet, nostalgic pang registered in her chest, and she suddenly longed for those days, before she and Hanna were together, before any of that mess. Because at least she had friends. She had a life. And she had Hanna, even if it wasn't in the same capacity.

"Hey…" She was jerked from her reverie of simplicity as Aria set her hand on her shoulder. "Come on." She nodded her head in their direction, and before she knew it, Aria was practically pushing Spencer down the hallway towards Hanna and Emily.

"I…" The protest died on her lips as she locked eyes with Hanna and saw the same bittersweet longing for simplicity she had just experienced. She looked to Emily, and saw it there too. Aria was no different. For the first time since they'd parted ways, and for maybe the last time ever, they were connected in the same way they had been before.

And, as they converged in a four way embrace, Spencer realized that maybe this was enough.

* * *

"I'll have another." She slid her glass towards the bartender, having skipped the wine and moved onto straight, hard liquor. Even though that moment and the subsequent hour spent catching up with her friends (with surprisingly little emotional baggage brought out) had done more to make her happy than anything in the past few years, she was still left wearing amber colored glasses. (Or rather, holding one.) Emily and Paige were with the members of the swim team, Hanna had gone off with the friends she had made during the year Aria was in Iceland. Aria was god knows where. That left Spencer on the fringes of the crowd, the few people she'd managed to get close to outside of her group either not seeking her out, or just not there altogether. With a heavy sigh, she took a sip. It was just as well. She'd used up her quota of social interaction for the evening anyway.

She was either starting to come to terms with what had happened, or she was shoving it away. (The latter was far more likely.) Either that or she was stupidly drunk, and judging by the looks the bartender was giving her, that was just as likely. Not that she cared. It was making the experience a whole hell of a lot more bearable. But it also lent a certain sense of melancholy to the whole scene, like she was a hardboiled private eye from the 1940's who had a mysterious past and a dame that strung her along. She might have appreciated it if it didn't suck so much. She loved those movies.

"Sex on the beach." Spencer glanced over to see none other than Hanna sink down next to her, looking fairly glum. She derived no pleasure from this, and perhaps that was due to her current state of intoxication. She wasn't sure. But what remained was that Hanna was sad, and the small, masochistic part of her that still cared took control of her brain with full force.

"Looks like your drink order hasn't changed either." Spencer said, sliding a glance in her direction.

"Guess we're not so different after all." Hanna sighed, nodding at the bartender, sliding the class towards her, taking a long sip of the fluorescently colored drink.

"Hanna, we're polar opposites." Spencer said. "Which leaves me wondering why we're both having a miserable time. This seems like it would really be your scene."

Hanna shrugged. "I don't know. After being widowed and becoming a single mother, not to mention everything else that happened in those ten years…listening to some of these people just really pisses me off. Every time they brag about their accomplishments, their degrees, their careers, their power marriages…I just…I can't help but think about where I had imagined myself." She shook her head, swallowing hard. "I was accepted into design school, out in LA. I had everything set up. And then Wren happened. I deferred my enrollment. I deferred it again when he got sent out…I withdrew it completely when he died." She looked over at Spencer, and despite all of the heavy history between them, she saw mirrored disillusionment in her eyes, the same tiredness with life that she had been nursing for years. "You know what I do now? I manage a store at the mall. I don't even own it, I manage it. I got accepted into FIDM…and I manage a Forever 21. I live at home, with my mother, because I can't afford a decent apartment in a nice neighborhood with that paycheck. I'm not enough for Liam. He needs more than me, but I can't give that to him."

"Hanna…" Her heart broke., and not for the reasons it usually did when it came to her. "You're doing the best you can, anyone can see that. And Liam seems wonderful."

Hanna shook her head. "I don't know what to do anymore." Her eyes grew misty. "My husband is _dead._ I can barely support my son, and I'm not doing enough for him. He doesn't have friends. All the other kids make fun of him because he's an orphan. What even…" She sank her face into her hands for a moment. "No matter how hard I try, I can never take Wren's place in his life. I can never be everything that he needs me to be. Not even at my best, and…I haven't been at my best in a very long time." She sighed, running her hands down her face, her expression exhausted. "I should be going." She slipped off the bar stool. "I know you don't want to hear this."

"Wait." Spencer caught her arm. This wasn't Hanna, the girl that had hurt her, or the girl she had hurt. This was Hanna, the woman, who was hurting. And she was Spencer, the woman who couldn't stand it. "…you're drunk. You shouldn't be driving. We could…share a cab back to the hotel, since we're both staying there. You can even raid my minibar."

"…why are you being so nice to me?" Hanna asked, after a long moment, stepping closer to her, her light eyes locking with Spencer's dark ones, the connection prompting her to be frighteningly honest.

"I don't know." She shrugged, folding her coat over her arms. "But that doesn't matter, does it?"

"No." Hanna said, after a long moment, breaking the eye contact. For an instant, Spencer was breathless. "No, I guess it doesn't."

* * *

"Next time, remind me to go for the upgrade, this room is fabulous." Hanna said, spinning around in the desk chair, setting the bottle down on the desk – well, attempting to, anyway. Spencer winced as she heard the glass break against the floor, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and do anything about it. Her state of drunkenness had progressed to the point where she was didn't really care, and was more fascinating by the pattern on the ceiling. "Sorry."

She waved her hand dismissively. "We'll just have to remember not to step there." She finally pushed herself up into a sitting position, fluffing her hair out. "I cannot believe I walked away with your son's lion this morning, I'm so sorry."

"I can." Hanna sighed, finally stopping the chair from spinning. "I sort of dropped a few huge bombs on you, and even I didn't notice. He'll be fine, anyway, he's got enough toys." She sighed, looking up at Spencer. "You know what he wants to name it. Spencer. You made quite the impression on him."

"Really?" The dampening of her previous emotions did nothing to get rid of her slight elation at how cute that was. "He's so precious." Spencer sighed. "I don't know why you're worried about him, Hanna…he's a good little boy, you're doing wonderfully."

Hanna shrugged, letting her head loll over the back of the chair. "I just know I could be doing more." She sighed heavily. "I need to be two parents, and I barely have the time to be one…am I still spinning?"

"No." Spencer shook her head, smacking the empty area of the bed beside her. "You should lie down, I wouldn't want you trying to find your own room in this condition."

"Amen." Hanna sighed, kicking off her heels, stumbling over to the bed, stretching out beside her, folding her arms up behind her head. Spencer gazed down at her. She was just as perfect up close., although upon a closer glance, she seemed…tired. Less put together than she'd though that morning, although what she had said at the reunion had sort of thrown that into perspective for her already. But instead of how happy she thought she would be to learn that Hanna was just as miserable as she was…seeing her truly hurting only made her feel worse. "I like your hair like this." She said, reaching up, tugging a hand through the jaw length, spiked and feathered out hair cut she was wearing. "You looked good with long hair, but…this makes you look grown up. If it weren't for this, I'd still think you were seventeen."

"I cut because of you, you know." Spencer said, before she could stop herself. Hanna's expression said she wasn't going to get out of explaining that. With a sigh, she started pulling her own hand through her hair. "When I got the invitation…I knew I was inevitably going to see you again…and it was too much, and I broke down, and…ended up chopping my hair off." She shrugged. "There was alcohol involved…I was upset…I had to do something drastic that wasn't, you know, crashing my car into a tree or anything." She laughed a little to offset how suddenly sobering her sentiment was. "My hairdresser was very angry with me."

When Hanna didn't respond right away, Spencer looked over at her, and met her gaze. What she saw wasn't the self-assured, calm look she had seen that morning, or the wounded one from the reunion, or even the look clouded over by her intoxication. It was the sorrowful look of someone with regrets…of someone who had hurt someone else that they cared about. And Spencer wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse. "I really did a number on you, didn't I?" The blonde finally asked softly, sitting up to match Spencer, facing her.

"…you broke my heart." Spencer whispered, swallowing hard. It was the first time she'd admitted it out loud, to herself or to anyone else.

"You broke mine." Hanna replied, just as softly, reaching out and tracing a light line down Spencer's forearm, leaning in, resting her forehead against hers. Spencer flinched at the contact for only a moment, before she disregarded everything in her that was screaming fowl, telling her to stop. She had never been very good at listening to those voices anyway, and the feeling was so familiar, so much reminiscent of the simplicity she craved, she couldn't help herself. "God, we really were terrible to one another, weren't we?"

"You always hurt the one you love." Spencer whispered the overplayed cliché. "Turns out we didn't need A to ruin us, we did it all on our own, just fine."

"It wasn't all bad, though, was it?" Hanna reached forward, taking Spencer's hands. Neither of them had moved, still sitting on the bed, still frighteningly close with foreheads touching, and now hands clasped. Spencer worked her fingertips up her wrist, sliding them across her skin ever so gently. Except for their breathing, the room was silent. She could have heard a pin drop.

"…it was the best time of my life." She finally whispered, her heart aching with how true it was. The times that they had been together, even considering the things they had gone through during and since then…nothing had ever been better. Not before, and not after.

"You really mean that." It wasn't a question. Knowing that, even after everything, Hanna could still trust her at the drop of a hat, over something that personal, it meant the world to her.

"Of course I do." She knew what was going to happen before it happened. And once again, every voice in her head was screaming at her to stop it, to not go there. Once again, her body had grown to fight off the potential for heartbreak like it was some sort of germ, but at that point she was so drunk and lonely and steeped in melancholy that nothing else mattered. She knew it was a bad choice, that it would be bad for her, bad for Hanna, bad for everyone in the long run. But she also knew that, in the end, she didn't really even have a choice.

For a moment, she was watching herself. Spencer had no control over it, she was just watching herself. She watched her hands slide slowly over Hanna's arms, still covered with the black fabric of her top. She watched as Hanna tensed – but not in a bad way – beneath her, as her hands moved gently over the curvature of her shoulders to her neck, and then cupping her cheeks. She felt as though she was both moving in slow motion, and impossibly swift. Her fingertips lingered on Hanna's cheeks for a moment, and she watched as her skin blushed beneath her touch, watched as Hanna's lips curved into a smile of approval.

She wanted this. They both wanted this. Maybe they even needed it. Hang the consequences.

A moment of stillness passed between them, before Spencer finally pulled Hanna close and kissed her, soft at first. The kiss was like a spark, short and sweet, almost able to be missed. But the spark, was just that – a spark. And it ignited something much more than just that short kiss. It was like it had set off a series of sparks inside her, a warmth rushing through her that she hadn't felt in years.

Suddenly, she was kissing her again, more fervently, and Hanna was kissing her too, her lips turning up against hers. Spencer removed her hands from her face to thread them through her hair, arching up on her knees on the bed, aching to be close to her. It had been an ache she'd nursed for five years now, as much as she had pushed it away or ignored it, it had always been there. She couldn't stand it any longer. She needed this. She needed her.

A soft moan echoed from the back of Hanna's throat as she wrapped her arms around her neck, pressing close to her. Spencer's stomach turned over and over and her lungs burned and her heart was racing, but there was no other feeling she wanted more There was no other place she'd rather be in that moment, no one else's arms she'd rather have pulling her close. Her hands plucked at the hemline of Hanna's top, and she worked it off over her head, burying her face in her neck, unable to get enough of her and the taste of her skin. She wrapped her arms around her now bare torso, kissing back up her jaw to her lips. "Spencer, please." Hanna turned away from the kiss, nails digging into her bare shoulders. "Don't you dare stop."

Spencer eased her down against the bed, mouth working along the line of her neck, fingertips trailing along her collarbones, longing to feel every inch of her again, to find the things about her that had changed, and the ones that had stayed the same. "Wouldn't dream of it…" She whispered against her skin, taking in her heartbeat and the sound of her breathing, the intricacies of her movements and the sounds she made as she kissed all the way back up her neck to her mouth, kissing her deeply.

This was so far beyond messed up, but Spencer couldn't care less. Now that she was remembering how well they fit together, and how good it felt to be with her, the past was nonexistent. The kiss broke for an instant, and Spencer locked eyes with Hanna, and it was like she was looking at her ten years ago, before everything had gotten in their way. It was suddenly like no time had passed, nothing had happened. Spencer knew she'd remember everything in the morning, knew she'd regret what happened, knew that this was only the beginning of a likely terrible whirlwind in her life, but in that moment, it didn't matter one bit.


	2. The Art of Guilt and Blame

A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the delay, I've just been overwhelmed by both school and other fics. (Check out 'Fear of Falling' and 'Threads' if you haven't already!) The good news is, I only have two and a half more weeks in this semester and then I'll be able to write nonstop. That includes my other fics, most notable the Warehouse 13/Pretty Little Liars crossover, if you guys are interested. Anyway, without further ado, the latest chapter of Hourglass!

* * *

_Kissing Hanna was like coming up for air after a very long time spent underwater. Being with her again was like collapsing back on shore after a very long, arduous swim – grounding and comforting with the added exhilaration of personal victory. She had done it. She had made it without her, she had survived. And Spencer couldn't think of a better – or worse – celebration of that._

_ Spencer slotted their hips together, arching her back to press against her, desperate to fall back in line with the exquisite silhouette of her form. Hanna's body was a poem she had memorized years before, and the words had not changed in the slightest – they had only grown more poignant and powerful over the years she had missed her. She could still speak every word perfectly, her lips against the lines of her frame, her flushed skin scented and tasting like vanilla and paradise on her tongue. She was surprised at the familiarity she still had, and then again, not at all shocked – Hanna wasn't a person anyone could ever forget being with. The experience was a lasting one._

_ "Oh, Spencer…" Hanna gasped, drawing out her name in a ghost of her voice, breathless and needy as she kissed up the pale canvas of her dewy thighs, skin damp with her arousal, legs already quivering in anticipation. Spencer couldn't help but smirk a little as she purposely avoided what she so desperately wanted, and instead drew a pattern with her mouth along her hips. "Come on…" Her voice was half whine as she reached down, tangling a hand in Spencer's short hair, fingers twisting themselves desperately among the strands as she continued to tease her. Her legs were draped over the edge of the bed, Spencer on her knees in front of her, gazing at her over the landscape of her body._

_ "God, I forgot how beautiful you were…" Spencer murmured, lips against her taut stomach. There was still a slow buzzing burn of alcohol in her veins, but that was nothing compared to the exhilaration of having her again. She pressed her hips down as they cantered up against her slightly. The more Hanna's urgency presented itself, the more mischievous she felt, a grin the likes of which she hadn't felt in years playing at the corners of her mouth._

_ "Liar…" Hanna managed to gasp out, tugging harder at her hair and not in a bad way. Spencer swallowed a low moan, biting at her lower lip to suppress it before she slipped her hands underneath her, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed._

_ "Guilty as charged…I could never forget." Spencer whispered, halting for another second, her heartbeat increasing with the tension in the air, before she finally leaned in, keeping her hips pinned to the mattress as she drew her tongue agonizingly slowly up the length of her, noting with a deep sense of satisfaction the wild noise that erupted from Hanna. The heat spreading through her doubled with Hanna's repeated, wanton keening, the way she gripped the sheets, desperate for something to ground her, the other hand tugging at her hair, urging her on._

_ Hanna was right. She was a liar. Every time she'd convinced herself she hadn't missed this, she had been lying to herself. And that was the worst kind of lie._

* * *

The sheets were warm. The blanket was heavy. Spencer turned over against it, knowing the instant she opened her eyes or slipped out of bed, the warmth would disappear and the pain of a hangover would take its place. And she wanted to avoid that as long as possible. Still, she couldn't halt the smile from forming on her lips as she reached over and found Hanna still next to her. What had happened hours before had seemed to exist in a dream, since that was the only way she'd thought it would ever happen again. Hell, it still felt like a dream, but that didn't stop her from edging closer, savoring the warmth of her sleeping body.

"Hey." The bed dipped slightly as Hanna rolled over into her arms, burying her face in her neck, her voice just as blurry and muzzy as Spencer felt. Her lips fell against her neck, and Spencer purred her approval as she moved her hands to the expanse of Hanna's back. "You're awake." She drew the words along the column of her neck with her mouth, and Spencer struggled to find her voice.

"That I am." Spencer whispered, threading her hand up through Hanna's short hair, sighing contentedly. "This is the best morning I've had since…the last time I woke up next to you." She laughed a little, her voice hoarse from her hangover, from her exhaustion, from the quiet contentment spreading through her as fast as the heat as Hanna worked her weakest point.

"…can I make it better?" Hanna whispered, lips against a pulse point, sucking gently, fingertips resting at the juncture of her hip and abdomen. The motion was sudden and unexpected, drawing a sharp exhalation from her, hips jerking forward against hers.

"Babydoll…" Her mouth formed the nickname so easily, so thoughtlessly, like they were back ten years before and nothing had changed. But everything had. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize and take it back but before she could make it audible, Hanna kissed her, firm, unyielding, silencing. Her free hand curled into her short hair at the back of her neck, and her other hand drifted across Spencer's stomach, turning over in heat and the uncertainty of the encounter, of what it meant. Still, she wasn't complaining. Far from it.

Hanna pulled at her lower lip with her teeth, shifting her hand to fully cup her, drawing a high pitched whine and a sharp jerk forward. "Now that's more like it." She whispered against her lips, as Spencer finally opened her eyes, locking them with Hanna's slightly blurred over blue ones for only a second before they fluttered shut again, her entire body tensing as Hanna dipped inside her.

"Fuck." Spencer gasped sharply, digging her nails into Hanna's shoulders, jerking her hips forward against her touch, aching and desperate for more. Now that she had finally caved, after so long without her, she felt like an addict who had rediscovered an old supply – unable to get enough. "Please." She gasped, crying out as Hanna arched her hand in just the right way, hitting just the right spot. It hadn't been this good in so long that Hanna had her dissolving at the barest touch, the smallest flick of a fingertip, and she couldn't have been more shameless about it.

"Mmm…well, you certainly missed me." Hanna whispered, before kissing her again, pulling her close by her hair as she continued to play the strings of her body like a practiced musician. Hanna remembered as much as she did, clearly, and that would have been something to think about had Spencer not been so preoccupied. "I didn't expect that."

Spencer whimpered as Hanna traced circles around her clit, so close to coming undone from all of the attention, words struggling to form amidst the heat that was filling her up. "I…didn't…either." She gasped out, burying her face in her neck, enveloped by her seemingly permanent vanilla scent. "Oh God…Oh God, Hanna, please, I'm so…" She trailed off, arching against her at the pace the waves of ecstasy were starting to roll through her. Her own heartbeat swished in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the thoughts in her head, of the warning bells that were suddenly going off. What did she have to be worried about? Nothing, certainly not at that moment. She gripped her hard, pulling her even closer, trembling, needing her, wanting her, loving her, overwhelmed by being so close to her after so long. "Hanna…" She gasped out, the last intelligible word managing to escape the mess of sounds and letters building like a hundred car pileup in the back of her throat. Her final climax was a collision in the best way, everything coming together and yet falling apart. She didn't even know what she said or what she sounded like, so caught up in just feeling it. As she collapsed away from her, though, and the last wave crashed on the shore and the contentment, while chasing away her hangover, began to settle heavily in her limbs, a different set of words was pulled from her, without any prior thought or prompting. "I love you." She gasped, resting her head back on the indented pillow, blinking the daze from her eyes. "I never stopped."

"…go back to sleep, baby." Was Hanna's only response as she settled against her, burying her face in her neck, and Spencer was so spent by it all that she couldn't help but do exactly as she said, any worrying thought or self-loathing at what she'd revealed lost on her as she drifted away.

* * *

The next thing Spencer woke up to was not her own hangover, or the sun shining too brightly on her pillow, but a kiss. A gentle but insistent kiss, with no tongue, no frills, nothing but the simple affection of one pair of lips against another. So deep in sleep and the afterglow of her orgasm, it took her several minutes before she rolled over to reciprocate…and found herself alone.

"Hanna?" She mumbled, reaching over and finding nothing but a fistful of cold sheets. Her eyes flickered open to see exactly what she had felt – nothing but a slept in bed and a sheet of the hotel stationary neatly folded against the pillow, a lipstick print beneath her name, printed in Hanna's handwriting. That was another thing about her that hadn't changed. The letters were bubble-like in form, still childish and feminine and even though the warning bells were clanging in her head and her stomach was twisting, she couldn't help but smile a little.

Spencer sat up finally, holding the note in one hand as she reached for her reading glasses. (Jesus, she was getting old. When did that happen?) Unfolding the letter, her hands began to shake and suddenly, there she was, falling apart in stoic silence as her eyes traced the first few words.

_Spencer,_

_ I'm so sorry. I never meant for it all to go this far. I never intended on this happening at all, although part of me is glad it did. I wasn't lying when I said that I missed you. Part of me needed what happened here, and I'm sure part of you did too. In a way, it was healing. We left a lot of things unsaid when we last saw each other, and to be honest, it's been driving me crazy ever since. This was a way of handling it. It was definitely not the best way. But it was a way. And for that, I am grateful._

_ But I think you and I both know that last night was a mistake in every other respect. We've hurt each other enough times to know that either we're not meant to be, or we just aren't good for one another. As much as it hurts to write this, Spencer, I don't think I want to see you. Not right away. One day, I'd like to be your friend, but I don't see how that's possible, with you still feeling so strongly for me. It's not going to do either of us any good if we let it get to be more than this. I think our history has proven that. All we do is hurt each other in the end, and I can't afford this back and forth mess our relationship will always end up becoming. I have a son to take care of. You have a life back in New York. This won't work. It can't work. And neither of us should go around wasting our time, pretending like it will._

_ I'm so sorry, Spence._

_ Hanna_

The words felt hollow, echoing in the suddenly empty chamber of her chest. Where she had just seconds before been filled with warmth and contentment and optimism, with the stirrings of a love she had buried long ago, she was left with nothing. The sudden injection of emptiness into her was jarring and it left her feeling fragile, like all substance had been bled out of her by Hanna's cutting blow. It wasn't that she was sad or upset or depressed or even angry. It was that she felt nothing. And while Hanna's low blow was truly tragic…perhaps that was the true tragedy. Her lack of pain. She had lived with pain for the past ten years, she'd lain with it, she'd made peace with it. It was like an old friend, and now that she was without it, now that Hanna had left something else in her wake other than the familiar sensation of pain, Spencer was at a complete and total loss.

After a moment, she rolled over in the bed, tossing her reading glasses away from her, hearing them shatter against a wall, only indifferent to the sound of skittering, clattering plastic. She didn't crumple the note, rather she buried it beneath her pillow, and closed her eyes, burying her face against the soft sheets, already missing the curve of Hanna's neck and shoulder, where even now, she still longed to rest her head. Willing herself to fade into sleep again, half in hopes to be dreaming and wake up next to her, half in the need to not feel so empty and formless, she licked her lips to remove all traces of that last, ill-fated, poisonous kiss.

Hanna still used cherry lipgloss.

* * *

"God, that's so tacky!" Melissa paused as she hefted Spencer's duffel bag out of the trunk of the lemon yellow cab that had brought her back to her childhood home once again. "A note? Can I read it?"

"When did you get so nosy, Melissa?" Spencer lowered her sunglasses, wincing at the bright sun. Apparently, betrayal awakened latent hangovers that had been chased away by pity orgasms. "Of course you can't read it, for Christ's sake."

"Little ears!" Melissa hissed, and sure enough, Taylor was slipping over from the driveway not even a second later. "Honey, Spencer's not feeling well, you should just go back inside and we'll all hang out later, okay?"

"No, it's okay." Spencer said, a sound of discomfort lodging in her throat as Taylor hit her, hugging her tightly. The contact stirred something in the resounding void that had bled out into every fiber of her, and she sighed in relief, hugging Taylor back. "Oh, thank you, jujube." She sighed, managing a small smile as Taylor giggled at the nickname. "How about you, me and your mom go see a movie and go the park and have a super awesome day together? How does that sound?" Mindless children's entertainment, the chemically infused deliciousness of movie theatre popcorn and fresh air. Now that was what she needed right now. Anything that didn't remind her of the betrayal in the hotel room.

Taylor nodded vigorously, hugging her again, before skipping back to the house. "God, what are you feeding that child?" Spencer said, hefting her other bag over her shoulder as she turned to pay the cab driver, giving him her last few crumpled bills. "Is she going to school at Willy Wonka's factory?"

"Ha." Melissa said derisively, coming up behind her just as Spencer came up short with the cab fare, just giving him a card to swipe. "You just signed away my whole afternoon, you should be a bit more humble…or at least less chatty."

Spencer turned to Melissa, knowing exactly the desperation that was written on her features. She could see it in the way Melissa's expression fell as she looked at her fully, in the way all playfulness fell away from her and from the air around them. The void had grown into a black hole, sucking the life out of everything around her. And she only had Hanna to blame for it. "Melissa, I need you. I'm sorry, and I promise I will pay you back somehow, but right now, I feel like I'm one strong wind from being blown away. She broke me into tiny little pieces, Melissa. I haven't really felt it yet, but it's coming, and it's going to be bad. I feel like I'm losing my mind, and I need you to just…help me put it off for a few hours."

Before she could take a breath after finishing the sentence, Melissa was hugging her. A tight, affectionate, firm and loving hug that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before in her entire life. She was so stunned that it took her a good ten seconds before she wrapped her arms around Melissa to return the gesture, a few tears escaping her eyes as a weary sense of validation settled over her. Finally, someone cared that she was hurting. Finally someone understood. There was only one other person who had ever made her feel validated in her pain before, and that…well, she still had to contact her, somehow. Not now though. Perhaps not even soon. If Melissa really cared about her that much after so much time being spent in competition rather than sisterly affection, it could be all she needed to keep her steady.

"I'm going to strangle her the next time I see her." Melissa sighed, finally releasing her, patting her shoulders. "She's not going to get away with hurting you again, I won't allow it."

"Melissa, don't." The defense feels hollow on her tongue, but necessary. God, how sick was she. This girl broke her heart more than once and yet she was still coming to her aid at the drop of a hat. "I did some pretty awful things to her too. You know what they are."

"Yeah, but you're my baby sister." Melissa said. "I'm supposed to be blind to your faults, remember? Beat up any girl who breaks your heart?

A small laugh bubbled out of Spencer before she could stop it. "We're not exactly on the playground anymore, Melissa, but thank you…help me drag this shit to the barn?"

"Hey, if coming back home is the way you're choosing to deal with this, then I am all for it." Melissa said, doing as Spencer asked, helping her carry it over to the barn, which stood resolutely in the backyard, once a symbol of such contention between them. It was now a sanctuary, where she could hide away from all of the trouble she had managed to create for herself in two days. She didn't want to be in town, where Hanna would expect her to be, where she could accidentally run into her. She didn't want to live in a minefield. She was already dealing with enough. "Although I am curious…why aren't you just going back to New York and forgetting that all this even happened?"

"…Hanna isn't the only thing I've ever run away from." Spencer said after a long moment, glancing back at Melissa. God, if only she knew.

* * *

Three hours later, and Spencer still hadn't felt the full effect of what had happened to her. She was beginning to think she'd never feel it, and this was her punishment for being such an idiot – living on the edge of a massive breakdown but never going through it or reaching the end of it. It was torture for a masochist like her, who wanted to just feel the pain and get it over with. If anything, it left her feeling slightly unhinged, like she could break at any moment.

She hated that feeling.

"Come on, Taylor, you can do it!" Melissa called from the sidelines. Physical activity still remained an excellent way to distract herself from the shreds of her emotional life. So she'd dug out two of her old practice sticks from her parents' garage, given one to Taylor, and had proceeded to kick her niece's ass at a scrimmage of field hockey at the park.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Spencer laughed, actually laughed, as she sidestepped the nine year old rushing towards her, knocking the ball towards the makeshift goal she'd set up prior to playing. God, she'd forgotten how good she was at this, how it made her feel, even in the face of insurmountable emotional turmoil. "Catch me if you can, jujube!"

"You're bigger than me, no fair!" She heard Taylor call behind her, and she turned around, slowing to a jog as she moved backwards.

"You want the ball Taylor? Come on, come and take it!" She taunted, slowing up just slightly. She knew Melissa probably wouldn't approve of her slowing down her game a little to benefit Taylor, but she could live with it.

"Just…I can do it…" Spencer dodged each of Taylor's lunges expertly, leaving spots and big openings for her to take it, but to no avail, finally knocking the ball back past the goal.

"Sorry, jujube, better luck next time." Spencer slung her stick over her shoulder. "Tell you what, when you get to be my size, we'll play again, and you'll probably be able to beat me…keep practicing though, alright? You're good."

"That's right, baby, you were so good." Melissa came over, ruffling Taylor's hair. "Hey, Spence, I just got a call from work, and they need me to go do a video conference thing, is there any way you'd be okay with me bailing and leaving Taylor here? If I could get out of it, I would, but this is major, and I – "

"Say no more." Spencer cut her off. "I think it would do the both of us good, and as long as I have someone here with me, I should be okay…thanks though. You know…for everything." For peeling me off the floor of the hotel room when I was too hungover and depressed to move. For keeping me occupied. For making me feel like an actual human being for once. But she left all of these things unsaid. They didn't need to be quantified anyway. It would cheapen the now seemingly transcendent understanding their relationship had evolved into. If there was anything she was thankful for in the past ten years, it was Melissa, and what they had become for one another.

"Feel better." Melissa pulled her into a hug. "Don't let that you-know-what control your life again. I like having my sister back." The older woman patted her back as she pulled away. "I'll call you later."

"Yeah…" Spencer watched her leave, calling out for her on impulse. "Melissa?"

"What?" Melissa turned around, walking backwards.

"…I'm really glad we're not on the playground anymore!" She called back, after a moment, smiling as Melissa's features displayed a similar expression.

"Me too!" Spencer turned away as Melissa reached her car, in spite of everything feeling calm and collected. The precipice she'd been facing ever since she'd woken up the second time that morning was buried in the back of her mind, still there, still present, but only in the barest sense of the word. Maybe she would be okay. But then again, only time would tell.

"Alright." Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Taylor. "Aunt Spencer needs a break." Suddenly she was feeling like exercising during a hangover probably wasn't the best idea. Her stomach slid around uneasily and she swallowed hard. Neither was lunch. "I'm going to go sit on that bench over there, maybe you could go play on the swings until it's time for the movie, alright?"

Taylor nodded obediently and ran off, leaving Spencer to her thoughts beneath the sprawling oak tree which shielded her from the sun. She let her sunglasses rest on the bench beside her, soaking in the day and trying not to dwell on what had happened. Clearly, it hadn't meant much to Hanna. It shouldn't have meant so much to her. She shouldn't have let it, and that was the stupid part. She felt her cheeks flush hot with shame as she remembered the words she had let slip in the heat of the moment. She hadn't been able to admit it to herself at all over the past few years – so why had she said it so easily to her? Given the keys to her heart to the one person who had succeeded in breaking it over and over again, without a second thought? How much of an idiot was she?

"Spencer?" Spencer jerked away from the noise, almost falling off the bench. Swearing under her breath, she pushed herself up, took a deep breath and opened her eyes, only to find herself looking at none other than Ashley Marin, with Liam standing close to her side.

"…Mrs. Marin." Spencer got out, her brief and momentary sense of calm crashing into mild despair as she laid eyes on the redhead and her grandson. She did seem older, and more tired, with a few less than vibrant streaks in her hair, but still regal and warm. Like Hanna, it seemed, she had only gotten better with age.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ashley?" She sighed. "Liam, you can run and play, I have to talk to Spencer."

"Okay…hi Spencer!" He waved gaily at her, and in spite of everything that had happened, Spencer could help but to offer a small smile at him, waving back before he ran off towards the playground. Looking at him, she saw Wren very clearly in his young features, but it wasn't all him. It was someone else. Someone she knew, but it was too vague and she was too hungover to think too hard about it, and by the time she had come to this realization, he had run off anyway.

"So you need to talk to me, huh?" Spencer raised her head, directing her train of thought towards Ashley. It wasn't as though she held any animosity towards the woman; it was actually quite the contrary. Ashley had been a surrogate mother, a friend, and always supportive oh her and Hanna. But Ashley reminded her of when the times had been good, and seeing her…well, it stung more than she cared to admit. Having to endure her kindness wouldn't help her move on from what had happened the night before, or from Hanna at all. "It's been awhile."

"It has." Ashley admitted, as she sank down next to Spencer on the bench. "I want to know how you've been, Spencer. I do miss hearing from you. I understand that things aren't – "

"Things are just fine, thanks." She didn't want to be cold to the woman, honestly. She was trying her hardest not to be. This was just the complete opposite of what she needed at that moment, and her annoyance was too great to be directed at something as abstract at the universe. "I have a great job as the assistant campaign manager for the incumbent mayor of New York City. I live on the Upper East Side, in an apartment with a view. I have friends, hobbies, a life….Ashley, I'm doing fantastic." She spoke the blatant lie with such a sugary smile on her face that there was no way the other woman could believe her.

"Spencer." Good. She didn't believe her. "I know you probably try to forget about that part of your life, but I do know you. And I know when you're lying. And I know when you're being a smartass. And right now, you're doing both."

"I don't need you to be my mother anymore, Ashley, I'm a grown woman." Spencer sighed. "And I'll lie if I want to."

"Yes, but growing up doesn't mean we stop needing our parents." Ashley said. Spencer had to give it to her, not everyone could handle her level of hard sarcasm, and yet Ashley was unfazed entirely. "Come on. What's the matter?"

Spencer hesitated, mentally smacking herself for even contemplating telling her what happened, and then went ahead and spoke anyway. "Telling that story would mean speaking ill of your daughter, and I'm not sure you want to hear that."

"Spencer, I want you to listen to me, okay?" Ashley said, after a long pause during which Spencer couldn't help but panic that she'd already revealed too much and turned one of the people who still cared about her against her. "Because I'm older and I know better, and even now I think I know Hanna better than you. My daughter isn't perfect, Spencer." Ashley reached over and touched her shoulder. "And I think it would do you a lot of good to get yourself out of that mindset."

Spencer stared at the ground, focusing on an anthill, with the dark, tiny specks of bugs spilling out of it into the sun. She wondered what it would be like…to break free from the layers and layers of memories, holding her down like dirt and rocks and roots, holding her back from the light and air she deserved. She deserved to be able to breathe once in a while. On some level, buried somewhere deep inside of her, she knew that. She knew that Ashley was right about Hanna, and that her tendency to put her on a pedestal had gotten her into trouble many times over the years. She knew she was making everything worse for herself by holding onto that immaculate idea of her because, if Hanna was perfect and infallible, then every little bump or landslide in their relationship was her own fault, her own shortcoming.

But she had never gone a day without blaming herself for something. Why should this be any different?

"I think Taylor and I have to get going." Spencer said, standing up, brushing her shorts off, and deliberately avoiding the subject. The feeling was creeping back to her now, the freezing cold, the impermanence of her being, of her sanity, the sinking sensation of reaching a precipice and staring down into the depths with the knowledge that you could – and would – fall at any moment. Spencer was a leaf in a hurricane, subject to the strong pushing and pulling of her emotions, of her ingrained guilt. She always had been, when it had come to Hanna at least. Never once had she tried to grab onto a solid branch and lash out, never once had she tried to blame someone or something else. The burden had always been cast on her, and that realization was almost worse than the complete train wreck that had come from her encounter with Hanna. "I promised I'd take her into a movie…and honestly, I can't take this medicine right now…thanks for trying, Ashley."

"Wait…" Ashley stood as well, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder. "All things aside, do you…do you think maybe you could take Liam with you and Taylor? I know it's a lot to ask, but the poor boy doesn't have any friends, and he hasn't shut up about you since he met you, and I just really think it would be good for him to…have some company that's not just me or Hanna. I promise, I'll come and pick him up in a couple of hours."

"…this isn't some reverse 'Parent Trap' scheme, is it?" Spencer asked, as she turned to look at Ashley. "Because, believe it or not, I am not that stupid."

Ashley laid her hand over her heart. "I swear on my Tory Burches that I will be the one to come and pick him up, bar any unforeseen circumstances. This is about Liam, not about…whatever the hell happened between you and my daughter this time."

This time. Spencer scoffed to herself as she agreed to take him with her and subsequently bid Ashley goodbye. Because there had been so many times before this. Because she was an idiot and kept getting herself in the same situation over and over again.

And the worst part was that she was the only person she could bring herself to blame.

* * *

The uncomfortable brocade of the couch dipped slightly beneath her weight as Spencer sunk down onto it. Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but also much more than that, and for a minute, she laid there, completely still. It was the first time she'd allowed herself to be still since she'd woken up that morning and dragged herself to the phone, begging Melissa to come and get her. And though it wasn't the first time she'd let herself think about it, with Liam and Taylor playing in the other room, it was the first time she'd been alone with her thoughts, and that prospect thoroughly terrified her.

She glanced over as the entire couch vibrated with her phone, stretching out of her increasingly heavy thoughts to grab it. The touch screen was slippery under fingertips – her hands had been sweating, for whatever reason – but she eventually managed to unlock it.

A real, bubbling laugh was pulled from her as she laid eyes on the attached picture, all of her friends from work – minus Charlie, who had taken and sent the picture, hanging upside down on a jungle gym in central park. Leigha, Anna and Jordan were all there, making strange faces, their hair streaming down from the force of the gravity acting upon it. They had always known how to make her smile, since the day she'd started working there. Even if it didn't last, even if it did nothing to ease the ache of the guilt she couldn't help, it wasn't exactly a bad thing.

Not even a minute later, before she could respond, another text popped up on her phone from Charlie. _Skype? xx _Spencer smiled, glancing over at Taylor and Liam, who seemed rather occupied by the game they were playing. It couldn't hurt, right? A little company to stave off the breakdown for just a little longer, it was just what she needed. Grabbing her laptop and powering it on, she practically vibrated as she waited for the icon to pop up and the noise to start, practically falling off the couch when it did. She wasn't done recovering from her stumble as she answered the call, resulting in her being contorted when the webcam turned on, and a raucous burst of laughter from the other end. "You guys scared me!" Spencer whined, covering her face, unable to keep herself from smiling as they calmed down.

"We miss you, you idiot, come home." Charlie grinned, reaching in and turning the camera to focus more on the four of them, sitting in the break room at the campaign headquarters.

"Yeah, what the hell is so great about Pennsylvania that you're staying there two weeks?" Leigha asked, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hands.

"Nothing!" Spencer sighed, pulling her legs up underneath her, the laptop balanced on her hip. "I hate it here. But I took two weeks off, and I'm keeping those two weeks. New York is great, and so are you guys, but I need a break."

"So that means you met a hot girl down there, right?" Anna teased, wincing as Jordan shoved her shoulder.  
"Leave the poor woman alone, alright? She'll tell us if she wants to." Jordan said, looking back at the camera. "So, how did the reunion thingy go?"

Spencer wasn't sure what was worse – the question, or what happened to keep her from answering it. Because just as she opened her mouth to try and evade the question, (something she knew she'd never be able to do, really,) the door to the break room opened and in strode Rebecca Harrington. Blonde, impeccably dressed, showing skin without being immodest, her heels a tasteful height. She was the Mayor's wife, and more importantly, she was the Mayor's campaign manager, and Spencer's boss. Even over the webcam, Spencer could feel the temperature in the break room drop ten degrees. She was the perfect political wife, able to put on a warm smile and a sweater set and look perfect next to her Armani-wearing husband, but behind the scenes, she was an ice queen, willing to do whatever it took to keep her husband in office, and herself in the ultimate position of power, short of having anyone murdered. (And that was a limit most debatable.)

"The four of you, get back to work." There was as much ice in her voice as there was in the air around her, and even Spencer cringed a little, despite the fact that she was three hours away. "…I need to speak to Spencer, though." Through the camera, Rebecca cut her hawklike eyes to Spencer, and she flinched, their intimidating quality not nearly diminished by the relay of the camera. "If you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all." Spencer was breathless as she watched her friends, as bloodless and intimidated as she was, flee the room one by one with mild goodbyes and promises of another call soon, leaving her alone with Rebecca and all of her questionable intentions. Still, she had to admit, as Rebecca moved forward, sitting gracefully and demurely on the couch, on the edge, as though she was afraid that the common-ness of it would infect her or stain her skirt, she was as glacially beautiful as she was cold ad calculating.

And she was just as talented a lover as she was at political discourse.

"We never finished our previous conversation, Miss Hastings." Rebecca leaned forward, folding her hands in her lap. Just looking at her, Spencer remembered how cold her lips had felt on her neck, how her fingertips had left trails of ice along her thighs. Her back stung from the time she'd been pressed against the desk for far too long at the wrong angle. She wondered why she'd ever been attracted to that woman, but in the same vein, she understood it. Her icy qualities, her emotional unavailability, her dominance, her straightforwardness, (not to mention the taboo of sleeping with the Mayor's wife.) She was everything that Hanna wasn't minus the hair color. But it turned out that hadn't worked for her either. The two weeks in Pennsylvania weren't all about personal punishment. "And, as I recall, it was quite an important one."

"Look, if you're worried that I'm going to let it slip that I've been to your 'sacred temple' or whatever your pastor told you to call it back I middle school, I'm not. Trust me. I've had enough humiliation in my life to last four lifetimes." Spencer sighed, pushing her hand through her hair. "Believe me, I want to just melt into the background and help your husband win, so I can get my job and get on with my life. Okay? Is that good enough for you?"

"I'm sorry, Spencer, I just don't know how I can trust you." Rebecca said, shrugging. "I mean…as someone who has ruined relationships in the past, I have no reason to believe that you wouldn't do the same to me. After all, if you could do it to your beloved sister, then…why not me? You've made it clear that you feel nothing for me. What would stop you?"

Spencer stared open-mouthed, too shocked by her intimate knowledge of her life to be hurt. "Maybe because I'm, I don't know, a decent fucking person that doesn't resort to blackmail to get her way?" She finally said. "I have no desire to drag this out any further, and I'm not sure why you do, since it would only damage your precious campaign."

"That's exactly what I'm seeking to prevent from happening." Rebecca said, her voice never wavering, a cool, icy sound that made her shiver. "And if I have to resort to, I don't know, releasing your juvenile record in order to discredit you, I won't have any problem with that honey." She sighed as anger began to gnaw away at the void in Spencer's chest, making it bigger, and more painful. "It's such a shame that you're so easy to just throw under the bus like this…you were really good in bed."

Spencer glanced over to make sure the kids weren't paying attention, before she leaned forward, dropping her voice. "Look, you insufferable bitch. I didn't ask for a record, and if I didn't need this job, I'd be quitting right this instant. And you need me. No one else can do what I do. It's just a shame that your husband can't learn how to satisfy you like I can."

"…Spencer?"

Spencer froze. That voice. No. Ashley had promised her. There was no way she was…

Spencer turned at the same time as she slammed her laptop shut, ending the call, turning to face none other than Hanna, staring at her from the door, her expression saying that she'd just heard everything.

* * *

I know you all hate me right now, but just like Axis, I have a plan 3


	3. Sins of A Mother

A/N: This wasn't originally what I was planning on doing, but I'm feeling spontaneous and I also feel really bad for not updating recently so here, have some filler stuff to get you through until I finish the rest of it!

* * *

**Hourglass Chapter 3:**

_ Sins of a Mother…_

"…Hanna." Spencer wasn't sure what was worse – slamming the lid on the one person who could actually ruin her life, or having Hanna of all people witness it. She sprang to her feet, backing towards the wall like a wounded animal. If she had to describe herself at that moment, that's what she would say – a wounded animal. She'd been hurt, her feeling of safety in her home territory diminished, her senses running wild, her defenses up. Despite their history, despite the good that had transpired between them, she could only look at Hanna now as a predator – and at herself as a slow and lowly piece of prey who deserved whatever wounds she took. "Look, I…it's a long story."

Hanna held up her hand. "No, please." As Spencer began to calm down, her stasis returning, the alarm bells dying down to a dim echo, Spencer saw something she hadn't in a very long time – Hanna thrown off her game. A wounded Hanna. The blonde shifted her weight from foot to foot, not meeting her gaze. What Hanna had just seen, or perhaps even the events from that morning, (though she supposed that was a longshot, some wishful thinking,) had thrown her off balance. "It really isn't any of my business, now is it?" Hanna said quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. Spencer couldn't help but watch her for a moment, unused to this Hanna, unused to being the one with the high ground, with the advantage. Even though it was temporary, fleeting, and really at her own expense, it was novel, and the smallest part of her wanted to experience it before it flitted away.

"I just…it's a lot worse than it sounds." Spencer said, as she crossed the room, sitting on the back of the couch in front of Hanna. The blonde gave her a look that made her wince. "…okay, maybe it's exactly as bad as it sounds, but I have it under control." Lie. Such a lie. She was such a liar. She had never been more in over her head. "And like you said, it really isn't any of your business anyway, right?"

It was Hanna who winced this time, but it didn't feel nearly as good as Spencer thought it would, But with an apology on the tip of her tongue, even though she had no cause to give one, Hanna steeled herself, expression falling neutral, posture returning. Back on even – or rather, uneven – ground. "Where's my son? My mother said she left him with you." There was an unspoken 'God knows why' at the end of that sentence that read clearly in Hanna's eyes, and echoed in Spencer's chest. It was not a good feeling.

"Yeah, well, she also said she'd be the one to pick him up." Spencer said, her voice terse, expression withdrawn and tightlipped. She was briefly angry at Ashley for breaking her promise. Then she remembered Ashley was one of the more honorable people she knew, and that there must have been a reason why she hadn't shown up. "…extenuating circumstances, I get it." She said, as Hanna opened her mouth to speak. Of course. There were always extenuating circumstances. Always. Always things throwing them together at the worst possible times, or tearing them apart when they'd actually found some ground to stand on. This was what always happened. It was their story. "Well, he's in the other room, playing a video game with Taylor. Don't worry, I'm not exposing them to depravity, it's Melissa-approved. It's probably boring and educational."

"Right…Liam?" Hanna called, slipping her purse over her shoulder, averting her eyes from Spencer as they both listened. After only a few seconds, running footsteps announced Liam before he ran into the room. "Come here, buddy."

"Mom!" For a moment, Spencer let go of everything that was troubling her, and watched mother and son embrace. She hadn't really read between the lines of what Hanna had told her about her life, but now that she looked at them, there was much more than met the eye. Liam's excitement over such an ordinary occasion. The smile that Hanna reserved for moments where she was truly happy, with people she truly loved. The way they seemed to forget where they were for the instant of the hug. She could see the picture of their life as clearly as she would see a movie. Liam was a lonely little boy. Hanna did her best, but she had to work so often in order to take care of him that it was hard, so very hard, to be there for him. What astounded her most, though, was that Hanna could have such a strong, powerful love for a child that wasn't even her own…and could leave Spencer nothing but a note and a ghost of a kiss, and throw her away like she was nothing.

She cleared her throat, unable to take it. (She had come to terms with her limits over the years, and she'd just hit one of them.) "I guess you guys will be headed out now." She said, crossing her arms over her chest, not prepared for the assault on her legs by the little boy as he ran over, throwing his arms around them.

"Thank you, Spencer." Liam said politely, looking up at her with his shiny, dark eyes that looked so familiar, and yet a complete mystery to her. "When will I see you again?"

Spencer swallowed hard. Goddammit. Despite everything that had happened over the past two days, all of the utter mess it had become, all of the things that told her she shouldn't, Spencer had grown as attached to Liam as he was to her. (Well, maybe not quite that much.) She cared about his feelings, about his future and how dubious it was looking at the moment. She cared about him, and she hated that about herself – always getting attached to the things that would end up hurting her the most.

"Well…" She sighed heavily, setting her hands on his shoulders. "The thing is, Liam, I don't live here. I live in New York – you know, the big city? I'm sure your mom has taken you there before." She paused as he looked thoughtful, glanced up at Hanna, and then nodded. "Yeah, and that's kind of far away, right? Well…I have to go back there soon. I have a really important job I have to…so, I don't know when I'll be back here."

"Oh." Spencer struggled not to wince, his tone sounded so desolate. She couldn't be around Hanna, not for her own wellbeing, she knew that. But, then again, she'd always had a horrible habit of doing the exact opposite.

"But I'll tell you what." She finally sighed, glancing at Hanna, who looked more than trepidatious, but didn't dissuade her from speaking. "Before I leave, I'll give you my address, and if there's anything you ever want to tell me, you can write me a letter and I promise that I'll write you one back, okay?"

Liam smiled a little, putting Spencer just a little bit more at ease. "Okay…but you're gonna be here for a little but longer, right?" Before Spencer could even answer, he looked up at his mother. "We gotta have Spencer over before she leaves, mom. Please?"

Spencer and Hanna locked eyes. For once, they actually agreed on something. "I don't know, honey, I'm sure Spencer is very busy." Hanna said, crouching down slightly, so that she was on Liam's level. "I don't think that's going to happen." Spencer had to admit, with the gentle way she was breaking it to him rather than just giving him a harsh 'no' and whisking him away, Hanna was a very good mother. "Sorry, buddy."

"But…" Unfortunately, Liam was a very determined child. And also very cute. Whether he knew he held this power or not, it didn't matter. His dark eyes went wide, and that was it, at least for Spencer. Hanna was slightly more inscrutable. "Can't she come over for dinner tonight?" There was a pause in which neither of them knew what to do. "Please?" Liam drew the word out, and even Spencer could see Hanna weaken because of it. In fact, she didn't know how anyone could stand steadfast in the face and the will of a child that cute.

Spencer crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at Hanna as she slowly rose into an upright position, the entire atmosphere around her completely resigned. "…well, what do you say, Han?" She asked finally, nothing that Liam jumped up a little as he heard it. "I'm not busy tonight, and I could even make something…well, one of the things I know how to make, anyway." She managed a half-hearted laugh, biting at her lower lip as she took in Hanna's conflicted expression. Why was she nervous? It wasn't like she wanted to be around her or anything, not after what she'd done. Why did she want Hanna to want to see her, to be around her, after everything?

Hanna glanced up at Spencer, looking away before they could lock eyes, instead focusing on Liam, smoothing the collar on his polo shirt, sighing. "…well, I guess it couldn't do any harm." She finally said, anything else she vocalized drowned out by Liam's exclamation as he threw his arms around his mother's legs.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He said, bouncing up and down slightly as he looked up at Hanna. (Spencer blamed the candy from the movie theatre she'd sworn him to secrecy about.) He then turned around and hugged Spencer's legs, and, a little overwhelmed by emotion, she placed her hand on his head. "I'll see you later, Spencer." He said, with a lopsided grin that reminded her so much of Wren that for a minute, her heart ached. And by the time she had recovered, Liam was already bounding towards the door.

Spencer swallowed hard as she rose her eyes to meet Hanna's. She looked…vacant. Expressionless. And that was infuriating, and worrying. But she also looked like she was holding something back, and that could be either good, or bad. Either way, Spencer was apprehensive. "I…guess I'll see you later, then." Spencer sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hanna nodded, forcing a small smile. (She could tell by how genuine it seemed.) "Yeah, I guess I will." She said, shifting her purse over onto her shoulder. "Come by around seven. Mom and Pastor Ted have a church thing, so it'll just be us." She turned away, only to pause, still for a moment, before turning back to look at her. "…thank you."

"For what?" Spencer shrugged. Intruding on your family time? Rocketing into your life again, only to be unceremoniously shoved out? Saying 'I love you' one last time?

"…I know it can't be the most pleasant thing for you right now, but my son," _Her_ son. Hers. "has been having a rough time adjusting, and any positive influence is…well, it's welcome. No matter who it comes from." Before Spencer knew what was happening, Hanna stepped up on tiptoe and kissed her on the cheek, a ghost of their last kiss, and yet so much more than that. "So thank you, Spencer…this means a lot to me."

"Yeah, well…anything for the kid, right?" Spencer said, once she'd regained her voice. "I'll see you at eight." She watched as Hanna left, waving a little over her shoulder. She didn't notice Melissa standing by the door until Hanna accidentally shoulder-checked her. Yelping a little, Hanna recoiled – and with the look on Melissa's face, Spencer didn't blame her in the slightest. It wasn't even directed at her, and it had her wanting to run for the hills while she still could.

There wasn't even a second's pause after the door slammed shut before Melissa started in on her. "Are you kidding me right now, Spencer?" She asked, crossing the room to her, all of her disapproval glowing like embers in her eyes, reading in her expression. It was interwoven in a frightening amount of anger, and for a long moment, she could have sworn Melissa was about to slap her. "Kidding, right? There is no way I just saw that, and I'm going crazy…_right_? For the love of God, Spencer, answer me!"

"Maybe I will when you learn how to breathe, Melissa." Spencer snapped, turning away from her. "I'm a grown woman, Melissa, and it's not what you think – "

"Not what I think?" Melissa said. "What I think is how could you? Spencer, she broke your heart ten years ago, and she broke it again this morning…what is wrong with you? Going to her house for dinner? Letting her waltz in and charm you and kiss you on the cheek? She is bad news, Spencer. She's your kryptonite. You are the smartest person I know, why are you so stupid around her?"

As much as it, hurt, Spencer knew she was right. She sank down on the couch, facing away from her. Hanna robbed her of all her mental faculties, dissolving her into a puddle of lovesick puppy tears every single time. She was powerless – only God knew why – because even at that moment, when she was devastated over what Hanna had done, knowing that everything that Melissa had said was right, she still couldn't shake the slow burning undertone of the love she had nursed for years now. She wasn't angry at her, though she had every right to be. She was only angry at herself, for giving so much away to someone else that had merely squandered it.  
"It's her son." Spencer said, after a long moment, swallowing hard. "I don't know what it is, I just…I like him. I really like him. And it was his idea. I'm not doing it because of Hanna." Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either. "I'm doing it for him."

"Yeah, what is he, seven?" Melissa asked. "He'll get over it, he won't even remember you when you go back to New York."

"Melissa." She didn't know why it was so hard to tell her. They had burned this bridge years ago. Buried the hatchet. Spencer swallowed again, her mouth and throat suddenly dry. "He's Wren's son too." She said, looking over at her sister. The news took an instant effect on her, expression falling from the pissed off control it had been held in, eyes widening, jaw going slack. She had hardly ever seen Melissa so quietly disarmed, so unprepared. It wasn't until then that she remembered how much Wren had meant to her…to both of them. The fact that she hadn't had any time to grieve over this person that she had once cared about hit her even harder, and she had to look away.

"I didn't…I heard he got married, I just…I didn't know it was her." Melissa's voice was small, shrunken. Out of what emotion, Spencer wasn't sure. "Not that I still have feelings for him or anything, it's just…_her_? _Really_?" Melissa shook her head. "After everything he put the two of us through, he goes for Hanna Marin. Your ex. Who would have thought that with a velvet voice like that, he'd be such a slime ball."

"…you know he's dead, right?" Spencer glanced over at Melissa in time to catch the barest of nods, and a flurry of motion from her hand away from her face, eyes glistening and not in a good way. "Melissa…"

"Yeah, I did know." She finally said. "I just…didn't want to be the one to tell you, you know?" She shrugged a little, folding her hands in her lap. "I didn't want to dig up any bad blood between us…you needed me, and…and I needed you. We spent so much of our time fighting and bickering and hating each other over stupid things, I just…wanted to pretend like everything was okay, you know?"

"Melissa…" Spencer sighed, equal parts touched and heartbroken by her sister's admission. 'You don't have to pretend. For once…everything between us is completely okay."

Melissa offered up a small smile, reaching over and hugging Spencer, sighing into her shoulder. "I'm sorry I was being controlling, I just…I don't want you to get hurt again. And while I'm pretty sure this is a really stupid thing to do…you are a grown woman. Like you said. I just…" She shook her head. "You're my baby sister. You were never supposed to grow up and have all this horrible shit happen to you."

"You say that like you blame yourself." Spencer said, reaching up and massaging her temples, her hangover headache intensifying again. "Fuck me, I'm getting a migraine."

"I don't…I just wish I'd protected you better." Melissa sighed. "Excedrin's back in the house, we didn't want to keep it out here. I could get it for you."

"Nah, I got it." Spencer waved her off, standing. "You and Taylor should get going anyway, aren't you heading back to DC tomorrow?"

"Day after." Melissa stood as well, pulling her into a hug, resting her head on her shoulder. "Just…be careful."

"I will." Spencer said, with a small nod as she let her go, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. She meant it. She would try to be careful. Of course…she always meant it in the beginning.

Spencer traipsed through the house with little thought – it didn't appear that anyone was home. Bottles rattled around in the drawer in the kitchen that all the drugs were kept in as it flew open at her prompting. She shuffled the bottles around, finally coming up with Excedrin, turning it over to find only one pill left in its plastic prison. Disheartening, but not surprising – the Hastings' went through Excedrin like candy. She instead made her way up the stairs, glancing over at the living room over the bannister. Not much had changed – even the furniture was the same, unworn, well taken care of. The house looked like a museum to her childhood, and that's what it had felt like throughout. A museum. A reproduction. An exhibit. Half of a life, half of a home, a front. She had always felt like a wax figure in this house, nothing but a face, an appearance, an exhibition of what life should have been, all of the cracks and imperfections smoothed away. She was always something for people to look at and admire and aspire to be, as if she was someone who had existed long ago. But she wasn't. She was alive today and she had no idea what the hell she was doing or where she was going and that was something that couldn't be smoothed over.

Spencer knew something was off the instant she opened her parents' medicine cabinet. It was overcrowded with prescription bottles, rather than just store bought vitamins and bandages. Her curiosity clawed at her as she picked through them, finally finding the Excedrin, dry swallowing two pills before she went to close the cabinet. Her hand stilled, shaking a little, before she lost the fight and pulled it open again. Taking a picture of the frighteningly full medicine cabinet, she fired it off to her (for lack of a better term,) doctor friend, Vanessa, leaning heavily against the cold counter of the sink sitting in silent agony as she wondered.

It didn't take long for her phone to start dancing along the curve of the sink, the vibrations setting it off. And even though she'd been expecting it, wanting it, it still startled her. "Vanessa?" She asked as she picked up the phone, nearly dropping it.

"That's Doctor Kerrigan to you." The sharp voice carried over the phone well, though it was obviously on speaker and slightly distorted, the noise of a bustling hospital cafeteria going on behind it. "Did you end up developing a drug problem after all, or are you asking for a friend?"

Spencer sighed heavily, crossing her free arm over her chest. "I appreciate your rapier wit, Vanessa, but I need to know what this stuff is, I found it in my parents' house."

There was a heavy sigh at the other end, and then a long pause. "From what I can tell, someone living in your parents' house has a pretty severe heart problem. These are all medicines for people who suffer from repeated heart attacks, congestive heart failure, coronary artery disease…it's a cocktail for clogged arteries and someone is hitting the bottle hard."

"…not exactly the best news." Spencer said, once she'd found her voice, a heavy weight in the vicinity of her own heart sinking into her stomach. "But thanks anyway, I owe you one."

"Yeah, I'll add it to the list." Vanessa said, with a heavy sigh. "What are you doing at your parents' house anyway, Spencer? I remember hearing some pretty nasty things about them, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, well…it's a long story." Spencer sighed, putting her hand to her forehead. "I'll tell you about it over lunch when I get back to New York."

"You're buying." Vanessa said simply, before there was a long pause and a thoughtful sigh. "Does it have anything to do with that girl you – "

"I don't want to talk about it." Spencer cut her off before she got any closer to uttering the truth. "I have to go, V, I'll talk to you when I get back, okay?" She hung up, reeling too hard from this new knowledge about her father to talk about Hanna at all, even to Vanessa, who probably deserved that conversation more than most people she knew.

She hopped off the sink after a moment, turning to face the overflowing medicine cabinet with her still sinking heart. She remembered – sometimes fondly, sometimes with bitterness – her father's sweet tooth and disdain for anything green and leafy, or for exercise that wasn't a not-so-friendly game of tennis at the club, but even in the ten years she'd been away, she never dreamed that this sort of thing would happen to him, or subsequently to her. Spiking through the fear that she was rightfully feeling, registering as an ache in her stomach, was anger. She was angry that she was now in this position – facing her father's mortality while still healing from the wounds he had inflicted on her, but not ready to forgive and forget, even though she was running out of time. It was the worst sort of situation to be in, and as she closed the cabinet and gazed at her glazed over eyes in the mirror, she knew that no matter what she did, it would end up hurting her in the end.

Spencer started down the stairs, her phone in her hand, her surroundings holding little weight in the plethora of things that were plaguing her life. It was only when someone called out to her, "Spencer!" that she came to attention, jerking with surprise. The sudden motion sent her phone flying over the bannister and she watched, with the rapt attention of someone witnessing a car crash, as it smashed against the floor, pieces of it scattering everywhere.

"Shit!" She raced down the stairs, though she knew it was futile, gathering up the pieces in the palm of her hand. It wasn't until there was another hand pressing pieces to her phone into her palm that she remembered she wasn't alone. She rose her gaze to reveal her father – of course – gathering carefully the pieces he had accidentally helped create. "Dad…" She sighed, putting her hand to her chest, over her heart, which had only started beating faster on seeing him, giving her a sickening, anxious sort of feeling. "You don't have to help, it's fine."

"No, I startled you, it's my fault." Peter said, brushing some of the warped plastic shards into his hand, depositing them into Spencer's. "It's the least I could do."

"No, stop." Spencer shifted the pieces into her pocket, eyes drifting to his cane, which was lying against the floor. "Just stop, Dad." She said, a wave of guilt crashing into her already uneasy stomach. "Please, just stop, I've got it." She pushed his hand away, a little more violently than she meant to, sitting back and swallowing hard.

Peter watched her for a moment, and with an astuteness and a wisdom that hadn't existed when she was a teenager, he sighed and said, "You went into my medicine cabinet, didn't you?" It was barely a question, it was a statement, and Spencer was so taken aback by his apparently sudden dose of insight into her that she could only nod. He sighed again, achingly stretching back up to stand while Spencer remained on the floor by his feet, like a child. "I think we need to talk."

Spencer shook her head, though she didn't move. "No, we don't, Dad." She said, looking at the floor, at the broken phone in her lap. "No."

"Spencer – "

"I said no!" She stared up at him again, her fury about everything that had gone wrong in her life flaring up in a way she couldn't control. "I'm not ready. I'm not fucking ready. You were awful to me, you treated me like a little robot that you could program, and then threw me out on my ass when I didn't match the schematic. I'm nowhere near ready to make nice, and you can't just force me to, not after everything you did to me. It's not fair!"

But instead of looking down at her, like the petulant child she may very well have been acting like, Peter instead calmly offered her a hand, and spoke. "Are you done?"

"…no, I am not done!" Spencer spluttered, pushing herself up on her own accord, though she did pass her father his cane. "I am nowhere near done. Not with you, not with everything I've had to deal with because of you, because of this stupid family and this wretched town." She turned away from him, hands closing into fists, afraid she might hit something. (The walls looked particularly enticing.)

"Did something happen?" Spencer glanced over her shoulder at him. He looked…almost frightened. Or perhaps that was concern. She couldn't hope to know, it had been too long. "I mean…other than what you found out about me."

"Everything happened." Spencer found herself blurting out again, staring at her father. "Work is going straight to hell. I can barely drag myself out of bed in the morning anymore. And to top it all off, the love of my life wants nothing to do with me. I'm so screwed up that the moment I told her that I still loved her, she bolted. She left a goddamned note. You and your expectations and your pressure made me so messed up that no one can find it in their hearts to love me. Is that what you wanted? When you got so angry with me for dating someone that happened to be the same gender as me? When you said you wanted me to be happy, and safe, and successful and productive, is that what you meant? Is this what you meant? Is my fucked up, soap-operatic, neurotic life what you wanted for me?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "Maybe you were right. Maybe if I were with a guy, it wouldn't hurt as much. Maybe if I married off to some rich dude who brought me home pearls after he banged his secretary, I wouldn't feel so much like drinking myself into oblivion and offing myself! You were right all along, Dad, congratu-fucking-lations! Why don't you go eat a cheeseburger to celebrate!?"

"Spencer…" The sincerity in his voice was too much for her heightened emotions, and she collapsed into a series of choking sobs that burned her throat and eyes as they ripped themselves from the deepest, darkest parts of her. She dropped the pieces of her phone on the ground and flung herself onto the couch, and for the first time since she had been figuratively tossed to the curb by Hanna, she cried. She buried her face in a pillow, and sobbed until her throat was raw and her eyelids burned when they were pressed together. It wasn't at all like a release, more like an acceptance of all the shit that had happened to her, and the load of guilt that came with it, and it was made a hundred times worse, because her father stood there and watched her lose it.

But what surprised her most was the slight sense of comfort she felt when the couch next to her sank slightly from her father's weight, and his hand rested between her shoulder blades.


	4. The Story of Us

A/N: -insert obligatory apology for the long wait here-

-insert generic explanation of school eating free time and personal issues here-

okay now things to remember:

-this is a FLASHBACK CHAPTER. This entire thing is a flashback to ten years ago.

-since this is written in spencer's p.o.v it's going to seem a little biased towards spencer. but hang in there.

-I'm really, really, really, really, really sorry.

* * *

"_This is Spencer Hastings, I'm sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message or send me a text, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"_

Spencer, it's your mother. I know things didn't go so well the last time we spoke, but I need to talk with you, I'll be coming over today around four or so, I'll see you then.

* * *

A series of quick kisses, like soft and tiny sips of something sweet and cherry flavored, danced across Spencer's lips as she laid in the blissful in-between of sleep and wakefulness. They felt like sparks, the good kind, not the painful kind, and the crackling electricity made her eyes flutter open. "Hey…" Her voice was soft, muzzy with sleep and warm contentment, and it was the only word Spencer could get out before Hanna kissed her fully. She closed her eyes again, and Hanna's kiss was better than sonar.

"Hey there." Hanna's grin reminded her of sunshine, and her eyes lit up like Christmas as she leaned in slowly, kissing her again, finding her hand underneath the covers, tangling their fingers together. Spencer held on like she never wanted to let go, and honestly, if her world was forever limited to the bed, warmed from sleep, and Hanna looking at her like she was the only perfect thing in the whole universe, she would never want to.

"You're up early." Spencer sighed, pushing herself up on her elbows, the sheets shifting off of her, exposing her bare legs to the slightly chilly morning air. "This isn't like you…you weren't trying to sneak out on me, were you?"

Hanna laughed as Spencer moved to the edge of the bed, sliding her hands along her shoulders. "Well, that's exactly what I was doing." She said, climbing up into her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck, fingertips curling into her hair, curly and formless. "I don't want Jason to catch me."

"Jason doesn't care." Spencer replied. "We could probably do it in front of him, and he'd just tell us to keep it down…and you're not very good at that, now are you? Let's test it…" She leaned forward, drawing her lips across the column of her neck, drinking her in, her scent, her dewy skin, letting it all pour over her. Now that she knew what it was like to be kept from her, from someone she needed so viscerally, she noticed and savored everything. The stiff corduroy of her skirt against her thighs, the way her fingers flexed and gave as they held onto her hair, the deep sighs and little sounds. Everything was magnified and illuminated, and she was starting to wonder if she should be thankful for the ordeal they had gone through.

"Jason's your big, scary older brother and I'm defiling his baby sister, it's like the laws of manhood that he has to sit on the porch with a shotgun and wait for me to come and pick you up." Hanna got out after a minute, pushing her away, her reluctance evident in the gentle tone of the gesture. She slipped off her lap, and into her heels. "And besides, my mom's doing tastings today, and I am not going to pass up a chance at free wedding cake."

Spencer chuckled. "I wouldn't ask you to. But at least let me walk you to the door." She stood, pulling at the hem of her oversized t-shirt, letting her arm hang low around her waist as she guided her out of the small bedroom on the first floor and into the living room. It was surreal, to be living in Ali's old house, but she'd mostly gotten over that. It was only at night when it bothered her anymore, when every sound could have been Ali's ghost wandering the halls, and every closet could be holding another ticking timebomb of a memory. It was better than her parents' house, where around every corner was another opportunity for disappointment, and a chance to be ignored, or devalued, or erased entirely.

They paused at the back door, Spencer's hands resting just above the waistband of her skirt, Hanna's fingertips playing at the collar of her t-shirt. "And you're sure you can't come with me today?" Hanna asked. "Not that I'm needy or anything, my mom keeps asking me to bring you, since you're going to be my date to the wedding. Not to mention that you're responsible for my better grades and clean room, I mean, the woman practically worships you."

"That might be a problem, since she's marrying Pastor Ted." Spencer sighed, with a smile. "But no, I'm sorry…I have to study. The AP Government is next week, and I need to brush up on all of the Supreme court decisions, and how they – "

"And this is where I go before I fall asleep and start drooling all over you." Hanna cut her off with a playful smile. "Good luck with that." She reached out, and squeezed her hand. "I'll come by later and we'll get dinner okay?" She said as she turned away.

"What, no goodbye kiss?" Spencer asked, but before she could take the step towards her, Hanna turned suddenly, taking her by surprise as she kissed her full on, hands fisting into the t-shirt as she dragged her close. Spencer could feel her wavering on her heels, putting her hands on her waist to steady her. There had never used to be anything steady about them – they were wild and wavering and secretive and passionate and always on the edge, and she used to think that being that way was the only way for them, but now that she had her, now that she had goodbye kisses and dinner plans, she knew she had been so very wrong.

"Hanna." She called out softly, when the kiss had broken and Hanna was halfway down the walk. The blonde looked over her shoulder, framed by the pale morning sunlight, and Spencer's breath caught in her chest for a moment. "I love you."

Hanna's smile was as warm as summer. "I love you too, Spencer."

"Overnight visitor?" Spencer jumped, scraping her arm against the wooden frame of the door, cursing her splinters as she turned to see Jason, in all of his just-rolled-out-of-bed glory. (Thankfully, this time he'd had the peace of mind to pull on a t-shirt.)

"I…she just…dropped by this morning, since…you don't believe a word of this, do you?" Spencer asked, giving up the charade quickly as she moved over to the couch, perching on the top of it, carefully inspecting her arm. "Do you mind?"

Jason made a noncommittal noise, shrugging as he moved over to the kitchen, stooping over and leaning into the fridge. "She's better than that Toby kid, and she can't get you pregnant, so I guess I really don't have any license to mind." He pulled out milk, drinking it straight from the carton, ever the dirty bachelor. (Beyond her disgust, his behavior was sometimes a little endearing. Especially now, when she was in such a good mood.) "Was this a special visit? You ask her to prom yet?"

"No." Spencer sighed, picking at one of the loose threads on the couch. She'd wanted to – that had been the purpose of inviting her to spend the night, the reason why she'd bought a bunch of Hanna's favorite pink sangria candles and run them a bath, and made sure Jason actually washed the sheets this time. She wanted it to be special, but each time she tried, the words all dried up and left her as useless as an empty pitcher to a thirsty person.

"Well, she's your girlfriend, isn't that, like…an automatic invitation?" Jason asked, finally straightening up, pulling a box of frozen waffles from the freezer and spinning them around in his hands.

"Well, technically, yes, we have an understanding, and we've already picked what colors we're wearing, but Emily told me that Hanna told her that she wanted something special, so now I don't know what to do – but I guess I probably shouldn't be taking your advice." She playfully knocked his shoulder, before taking the frozen waffles from his hand and sticking them in the toaster, instead of the toaster oven, where he was attempting to put them. "You were one of those assholes that drank in the parking lot all night, right? Left some poor girl high and dry?"

Jason's only response to that was a half-smile that let her know all-too-certainly that she was right. "So, ask one of your friends, or Melissa or something, they know what girls like."

"Please." Spencer scoffed, pulling the strawberry jam from the cupboard. "Aria's too busy lamenting about how she and Ezra can't go to prom, and Emily would never be able to keep a secret from Hanna. And I haven't heard from Melissa in a while." She shrugged, catching a waffle as it popped up. "I'll figure something out, I always do."

"Right…do I have any parental type things I need to lecture you about today, or are you good?" Jason asked, spreading peanut butter on his waffle with marked determination.

"If you see me slacking off on my AP studying, you should probably set me straight, but otherwise, I think I'll be fine." Spencer was halfway out the kitchen entry, taking a bite out of her waffle with jam, her mind running ahead of her, all the way over to the bedroom with the flashcards and the books and the painstakingly taken notes. (Her thoughts also went to Kyle, the teacher who had left so suddenly, but they were off her just as suddenly as they were on her.)

"Hey, Spence?" She turned on her heel, the chill from the tile floor sending tremors up her legs as she looked at her brother, who, for once, was wearing a genuine expression, even if it wasn't quite a smile. "It's good to see you happy." He said, after a long moment. Spencer felt her own mouth curving into a sort of smile, and she gave the same noncommittal shrug he was famous for.

"Well…it's good to finally be happy." She said, holding eye contact with him for a moment, before turning again, taking a bite out of her waffle as she mentally flipped through her flashcards. She did spare a second for the sentiment though, wondering why it had taken her this long to finally be happy enough for people to notice.

But that little thing flitted away as she sank own onto the bed with her textbook and Hanna's scent still lingering heavily in the air. For once, the little specifics, the minute points in the universe that had once caused her worry had no meaning for her anymore. She was happy – what use were details?

* * *

_Griswold v. Connecticut was the case that established that the right to privacy was guaranteed by the 9__th__ amendement to the Constitution, and therefore paved the road for -_ "Spencer! Can you get the door?! I'm covered in paint!" Spencer had been so engrossed in her in her flashcards that she hadn't even heard the door. But dutifully, she lifted herself from bed and shimmied into a pair of shorts before crossing the living room to the now insistent and repetitive sound of the doorbell.

"I'm coming!" She called, sighing heavily, glancing at the clock as she passed by. 4:00. Hanna would be done any minute, and be there soon after that. She hoped against hope for a Jehovah's Witness or political activist that she could turn away quickly in the interest of getting ready. But the instant her hand closed on the cold metal of the doorknob, a thick sense of uneasiness settled over her, sitting like a leaden weight in her stomach, and as the door swung open to reveal her mother, she wished she'd heeded it. "Mom…"

"Spencer." She was holding a long, flat box in her arms that she used to muscle her way in, before Spencer could even think of stepping aside. "Glad you're here…you look like you've been hard at work."

Spencer slicked down her messy ponytail, taking a moment to marvel at just how easy it was for her mother, simply by showing up and saying no more than a dozen words, to make her fall so hard so fast. She had whiplash – she had been so high lately, particularly that morning, drunk off freedom and the lack of responsibility, to her parents, to her history, to their status. And now all of that had come crashing down around her again, scattered at her feet, shattered and broken and all because of her. She was the five year old being interrogated by her father about why she hadn't been taken into the gifted and talented program. She was the twelve year old sitting off to the side and watching her sister scoop up class president, prom queen and valedictorian all in one fell swoop. She was the seventeen year old watching her parents and realizing that loving a girl wasn't in their agenda for her, and deviating from that path at all was some sort of ultimate dealbreaker. "Yeah, I have been, what do you want?" She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the closed door.

"I wanted to give you something." Bribery. This was the tactic they had always resorted to, when things didn't go as planned. She had received so many gifts for shady reasons, and not for just because. "Melissa told me you were wearing metallics to the prom, but hadn't found a dress yet." More like Melissa was badgered and badgered until Melissa just couldn't stand it anymore and told Veronica anyway. (Spencer didn't blame her.) "So I took a little trip up to New York, and I found this." She opened the box, smoothing away the tissue paper. "It's just your size."

Spencer had to admit, as she pulled the dress out of the box, she was momentarily struck speechless. It was everything she'd been looking for. It was shimmering gold silk, floor length with a slim skirt, overlain with black tulle. She could see herself in it perfectly – with her hair down and loose around her shoulders, a simple black clutch with a crystal closure. And even if her mother was one of her least favorite people, she had to admit that she had impeccable taste. "I…it's perfect." She glanced up at her, wary of her intentions, her stomach now straight up churning. The last things her mother had said to her were less than ideal, and she was never one to conceded or apologize out of selflessness, especially when she was so self-assured in her thinking. "What's the catch?"

Veronica shrugged in a way that let Spencer know it wasn't casual at all. "I just wanted to buy my daughter a prom dress." She turned, facing her as she folded the dress over her arm. "Although…"

"Here we go." Spencer rolled her eyes, moving away from the door, closer to her mother. "I don't want to hear it, mother, you can leave, and take the dress with you. I don't want it."

"Just hear me out, Spencer." Veronica said, grabbing her arm to stop her as she went by. "Alex is back in town, I ran into him at the club and he – "

"Alex?! Are you kidding me?"

" – said he really wanted to hear from you, and I'm sure he'd be willing to take you to the Prom, and we could even get the club to host it, if you could just – "

"Stop!" Spencer snapped, throwing her hands in the air violently, so tense she was sure she would break in half. "Just stop, Mom. Stop talking. Do you have any idea what you're saying right now? What you're asking me to do?" She turned away, blinking back tears, before she stared at her mother with a steely expression. "I have a girlfriend, mom. I have a girlfriend that I love and who loves me back, and I buy her flowers, and she leaves notes in lipstick on my bathroom mirror every time she's over, and she makes me _happy._" Spencer pulled her hands to her chest, now aching. "And I want nothing more than to go to prom with her, and watch her win her crown, and dance with her in front of God and everyone. Why does that matter so much to you? Why can't you just let me be happy?"

"I do want you to be happy, Spencer, that's all I want." Veronica said, after a long moment. "That's all I've ever wanted. But this isn't the way to be happy, Spencer, I – "

"Who are you to define what makes me happy?" Spencer wasn't holding back any more – she couldn't. She hadn't gotten her chance before, she'd left before it could even begin to boil over, but she was done. She was done hiding from them, and how they felt about her, and how eager they were to sweep that and her under the rug. It was time to shed light on it, and even though she shook from nervousness, she had never felt more powerful in her whole life. "I don't care about how people will see me, or you. I'm done, mom. Let's not pretend that this is about my future. It's about yours. And how people will react when they find out about me. I know you're itching to kick me out of your life, but you're worried about how that will look." Spencer took a step forward, hands balled into fists, staring her mother down. "Let me make it simple for you. I don't want to be your daughter anymore." Spencer lashed out, flinging the dress box to the ground. "There you go. Now you can tell them all that it was my choice."

The door slammed before either of them could say any more. Spencer had never seen her mother move so fast before, but she managed to catch a glimpse of her expression, and it told her all she needed to know – that she was right, and that she had won. And even though it hurt, she realized, as she picked the dress and the box up off the floor, she had been preparing herself for it for as long as she could remember. But never had she imagined she'd be strong enough to handle it. And while most of it had come from her, form her years of pent up resentment and frustration, she knew she couldn't take total responsibility.

"Jason, I'm going out!" She called, pausing a moment to check and make sure her mother was gone before she pulled on shoes and sprinted down the sidewalk to Hanna's house, faster than she really should have. She bent over at the waist to catch her breath as she stood on her front step, glancing up just in time to see Hanna pull into the driveway.

"Spencer?" She asked, slamming the car door shut, jogging up to her as best as she could in her heels. "Are you okay?"

"I'm perfect." She said softly, pulling her into a kiss by the front of her dress, catching the blonde by surprise. But she melted in her arms as always, and twisted her fingertips in her hair, her pulse almost a match to hers as she pressed against her. Six months ago, this would have been inconceivable, kissing her on her front steps in front of everyone, but now that she was doing it, now that she had her for the world to see, she wasn't sure how she'd ever lived and survived in secret, how she had kept it inside of her for so long without letting it spill from her, without screaming it from the rooftops that someone cared about her, that someone thought she was worth it. Now that everyone knew, maybe, just maybe, she'd be worth it for other people too. "Go to prom with me, babe?"

"I…of course." Hanna's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, face turning slightly against her touch as Spencer brushed her thumb over her cheek. "But I thought…"

"I know you wanted something special. I tried last night, I was just…too nervous." Spencer laughed a little, bringing up her other hand to hold her face. "I still could, you know…do something cool, and romantic and crazy, if you want but…you know how much you mean to me, right?" She sighed, her stomach and head spinning with how desperately affectionate she felt, spurred on by her mother's dismissal. "I don't need anything else but you and I. That's it. I've always…hidden behind other things, behind myself and my reputation…but I feel like I don't have to anymore, and that's all because of you. I know this isn't the special thing you wanted…but this is us, and just us, and I think that's better."

Hanna gazed at her, and her eyes looked like stars, or diamonds, or something else that shimmered beyond belief and was worth more than any part of her combined. "…it is better." She said softly, pulling Spencer's hands away from her face and holding them between the two of them, resting them against her chest. "It's so much better."

"You and me." Spencer whispered again, this time against her lips, letting go of her dress and letting her arms fall down around her waist, less than subtly pulling her up so that the space between their bodies dissipated, and there was nothing but blessed friction and arching backs and hips slotted perfectly against each other.

"You and I." Spencer dropped the kiss at Hanna's quiet exhalation, pulling away slightly in question, running her thumb along her jawline. "It's…it's 'you and I,' Spence." Hanna said, a small smile at the corners of her mouth. "Not 'you and me.'"

"I…I knew that."

"Sure you did." Spencer kissed Hanna hard, banishing the smug expression from her features, cupping her face in her hands. The door fell open behind them, and Spencer cupped the backs of Hanna's thighs as she pushed her against the wall, Hanna's legs wrapping around her waist. They stumbled up the stairs in awkward but impassioned synchronicity, tripping over each other in their haste.

"You are so in for it." Spencer whispered against her mouth, pulling Hanna's hair hard before shoving her down onto the bed, climbing over her.

"Wow…" Hanna said, face flushed, biting on her lower lip as she snaked her hands down to the hem of Spencer's shirt, starting to pull it off of her. "You're really hot when you have something to prove."

"I have – " Spencer started working on the buttons along the front of Hanna's dress, kissing her skin as she revealed it. " – nothing – " Her head dipped in the valley of her breasts and lower on her porcelain skin, peeling away the barrier of her dress. " – to prove."

And, for once in her life, she didn't.

* * *

"_This is Spencer Hastings, I'm sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message or send me a text, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"_

Spencer, it's your father. You've upset your mother and you've upset me, and we need to talk about this as soon as possible. Call me back immediately, I am very disappointed in you.

* * *

"Of course she's going to win." Emily said, leaning back against Paige's chest, her dark blue dress matching the brunette's waistcoat. "You guys made out in front of the entire football team."

"It's not our fault they got in from practice fifteen minutes early." Spencer sighed, brushing a curl out of her face, shifting uncomfortably in her dress. With the help of Ashley and Regina Marin, she had picked out another one, but that had fallen through in the last minute. (The last minute being a glass of wine, a clumsy dinner guest, and an unfortunate choice to steam and hang the dress in the living room.) So she was in the black and gold bribe her mother had brought her, and it was like a weight on her shoulders. Still, she rolled her shoulders and straightened her neck, giving Hanna a reassuring smile when she looked her way. "We thought the locker room was empty. Besides, she doesn't need accidental exhibitionism to win anyway."

"Exactly." Aria patted her arm, looping it with hers. "Nearly getting burned alive does a lot to remove stigma from a girl."

Spencer cast a shadowy look at her, but in essence, she was right. After nearly dying during the veritable shitstorm that Mona had unleashed on them, (apparently out of her own volition, as she was unceremoniously turned into the police several weeks later, abandoned by whoever had been running the puppet show,) Hanna's it girl status had been restored. Girls came out of the woodwork to coo over her burned hands and reminisce about that one time that they had exchanged three words about how dumb a teacher was, like that made them inseparable. Boys would come around and put their arms around her waist, and lean far too close for Spencer's liking – luckily a sharp look from her and a not-so-gentle chest push from Hanna would send them packing. Spencer had taken the brunt of the backlash – after all, most of it came from her circles, not Hanna's, and since girls like Emily, Maya and Paige had already paved the way, they received much more acceptance and little resistance after the first few shockwaves had passed. "It's not a sympathy vote, and it's not because people think she's a commodity. People love Hanna, they always have. She's the perfect Prom Queen."

"You're so whipped." Aria said, sighing.

"No, Spencer's right." Paige said, wrapping one arm around Emily's waist. "Even if this whole system is rooted in the patriarchy, I've never met anyone who's more prom queen material than Hanna."

"You're both whipped." Aria teased. "And the patriarchy? You're spending way too much time on tumblr, Paige."

"You're just bitter that your date couldn't pass the age check." Spencer said, raising a brow.

Aria winced. "Ouch, much?"

"Sorry." Spencer pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, taking a deep breath. "I didn't mean that, I'm just nervous. If Hanna doesn't win, she's going to be devastated."

"I thought you said you were sure she was going to win." Aria replied.  
"Well, on the off-chance she doesn't, I mean."

"Oh my God, shut up, or you're going to miss the announcement." Emily said, effectively shutting the two of them down and making Spencer look at the stage again. Hanna stood in the middle of a line of four other girls, none of which Spencer knew well at all or even particularly cared for. She watched the principal, every nerve and every doubt shining in her clear blue eyes. Spencer hated seeing her look like that, seeing her insecure and doubting herself. She could tell exactly what was running through her mind, and while she had tried to get through to her that prom queen had no bearing on her worth as person or her reputation, she knew Hanna couldn't shake the importance it had to her overnight. And she was allowed to find it important – after all, what else would do a better job of restoring them to true normalcy and setting them on a new and calm path than achieving the ultimate of teen girl fantasies?

Spencer caught Hanna's eye, her wide, twinkling eyes looking like she was about to bolt off into the forest like a deer. She was waving the proverbial white flag of surrender, and the steadily fading color in her cheeks, beneath the make-up, let Spencer know that she was probably about to pass out. This wasn't the Hanna from two years ago, who went into the contest for Homecoming Queen with only a small bundle of nerves and an assurance about her victory. Maybe it was the aftereffects of their omniscient team of cyberstalkers that had worn her down. Or maybe she'd just gotten worse at hiding her true levels of anxiety.

Or maybe she knew her so much better now than she had then.

Either way, before Spencer knew it, she found herself pulling out of Aria's grasp and stepping up onto the stage next to her girlfriend. (It wasn't too unusual, one of the other girls had their boyfriend holding them from behind.) The mild wave of induced chatter settled down with a stern look from the principal, who went on announcing the names and a short profile of each contestant. (Completely unnecessary, they knew who all of the girls were.) Spencer took Hanna's gloved hand in hers, rubbing the back of it. "You got this babe." She whispered once he was done talking about Hanna and had moved on.

"No, I don't, I'm gonna lose." Hanna whispered mournfully, gripping Spencer's hand so tightly, she feared it was going to fall off. "This is all I've ever wanted, Spencer, and I'm going to lose."

"No, you're not." Spencer assured her, moving her hands to her shoulders. "You're wonderful and everyone loves you, and they'd be stupid not to vote for you. And even if you don't win, Hanna, you have nothing to prove. Not to me or anyone else. I love you, no matter if you're Prom Queen or the lowest ranked on the GPA scale. Okay?"

Hanna relaxed by about a millimeter, but as she looked back at Spencer, the fight or flight in her eyes was gone, and was instead replaced with a watery sort of calm. "Okay."

"And the Prom Queen for the Rosewood Day class of 2012 is – " There was some comical fumbling with the envelope that no one found particularly funny. " – Miss Hanna Marin!"

Hanna yelped a little, stepping back into Spencer's arms, glancing back at her as if to see if that was real. "You did it, baby, now go." Spencer said, kissing the side of her head, beaming as she shoved her forward a little to get her moving towards the microphone, stepping back and watching, with a prideful, swelling feeling in her chest, as the tiara was delicately placed on Hanna's head, her blonde hair cascading down the back of her neck in waves and curls. She turned back to look at Spencer, beaming even more than she had been, and even with the stricken film of shock lain over her features, she looked radiant, angelic, every bit the princess any little girl would dream of being. Spencer's heart ached with how proud she was, and with how much she loved to see her so happy.

There was a smattering of applause before the lights dimmed, and the spotlight was lit on the floor. A song with dulcet notes began to float through the room, and as she stepped off the stage, she held out her hand. "May I have this dance?"

* * *

The sun had gone down completely, leaving them with only the glittering stringed lights hanging above their heads. The excitement in the room had settled down, and the rowdiest people had left to pregame before the after prom party, leaving only those that were couples, or just seriously abstinent, at the party. The low and sultry voice of Norah Jones oozed out of the speakers, a slow song to sway to, and that's exactly what Spencer did – sway, with Hanna tucked up against her chest.

"_I waited 'til I saw the sun. I don't know why I didn't come."_

Hanna sighed against Spencer's chest. "This is a sad song." She turned her head up to look at her, arms wrapped around her neck. The tiara was starting to sink in her hair, a little bit uneven, but it was still glittering, and even though Hanna was clearly tired and completely spent, she still looked radiant and elated, like straight sunshine had been injected into her veins. "They shouldn't be playing it."

_"My heart is drenched in wine, but you'll be on my mind, forever."_

"I don't know, I like this song." Spencer said, dropping her hands lower on Hanna's hips, sighing deeply in contentment. "It's tragic, but…romantic. I mean…yeah, they aren't together, and that's awful…but in the end, she's always going to be thinking of him."

"Well…" Hanna pursed her lips slightly, looking up at her. "If she loved him so much, then why didn't she go to meet him?"

"Because she couldn't handle it." Spencer shrugged a little, bringing her hands back up to cup the small of her back. "She loved him so much that it consumed her. It had too much power over her. She had to stop and remember how to breathe on her own. So, even though he's it for her, even though he's the one, she couldn't go to him. And no matter how much she drinks or tries to forget, he'll always be there…just in her head."

Hanna blinked. "And you don't think that's sad?"

"I think…it's beautiful." She finally said, leaning down and kissing Hanna's nose. (Hanna had kicked off her heels some time ago.) "If we leave now, we'll have time to get out of our dresses before after prom…and then some."

Hanna grinned. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

"That's because I need your mouth for other things."

* * *

"I've learned a lot during my time at Rosewood Day." Spencer felt the tremor rising in her voice, and swallowed hard, keeping her hands on the podium to keep them from shaking. It wasn't often that she got nervous like that, not when she was giving a speech on the merit of her academic talents, but she swore she had just spied her parents somewhere in the crowd, and found herself unsettled. She had suspected that they might try to work their way in, but she didn't follow that thought through to conclusion, the true implications of it, and now she was paying for it. "I…" She trailed off for a second, glancing down and searching the white page with the swimming words to fin the ones she had left off on.

At the two clicks of snapping fingers out in the audience, she looked up and almost immediately locked eyes with Hanna, who was a few rows back on the left side of the lines of white robed students, all caught between a mixture of self-satisfaction, boredom, and anxiety. She was sure the actual exchange was only a few seconds, gone relatively unnoticed, but it felt like much longer to her. 'You got this.' Hanna mouthed to her, making the shape of her heart with her hands. She looked angelic in her white robe, pulling a smile from Spencer just with the way she looked, and she glanced back at her speech to find the words back in straight lines, no longer swimming.

"I think the most important lessons – although it's hard to choose, I mean, those algebra lectures were pretty legendary – were the ones learned outside the classroom. Those are the ones that are really going to carry us through our lives. Now, I'm not saying that the Pythagorean theorem is useless, but I'm not going to use it as much as, say, knowing how to make the best friends imaginable, or knowing how work through some really difficult things. I guess the most crucial thing I and probably the rest of you learned at all was how to tell who you could trust…and how to trust them. Over the past four years, we've all loved and lost people, and we found out who was really there for us along the way." Emboldened by her words, she glanced up, searching out her parents in the crowd with a hard stare. "We've learned to cut away the people that are only there to hurt us, or drag us down. I think that's the most important skill – to be strong enough to get rid of the toxic people in our lives, and be wise enough to figure out who's who."

There was a thick feeling in her chest as she finished her speech, one of pride, one of one of bitter victory, but also one of loss, of melancholy. She took her place between Alina Harrison and Kaylen Hayes, and waited patiently for her name to be called. It was rewarding, really, to finally cut her parents off from her, from the energy they'd been sucking from her for her entire life. But the fact that it was necessary was a deep, dark feeling that settled right down against her bones.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur, and it wasn't until the heavy paper diploma was in her hands, and everyone was clapping and it was raining mortarboards that it hit her – that part of her life was over. She was more than her experiences, more than her trauma, more than her reputation, because she had made it through them, finally. The thought brought a smile to her face, but the feeling of heaviness didn't flee from her body until Hanna's arms closed around her, her beaming smile like a shot of concentrated stardust straight into her system. "God, you were so good, baby." She sighed, pulling her hands up to her mouth, kissing her still trembling fingertips. "Even if you did get a little lost there, what happened?"

"…my parents are here somewhere." Spencer admitted, continuing before Hanna's perturbed expression turned into an even worse verbal tirade. "It's okay, it's okay, let's just…go find your mom and Jason, okay? I'm done with them, I'm not gonna worry…it's all over now."

"Come here, little darlins." Before Spencer could react or respond, she was enclosed in a bone crushing hug by Hanna's grandmother. Regina had taken to visiting Rosewood more and more, spending longer periods of time there now that Ashley was getting remarried, and moreover, had wholeheartedly taken to Spencer as Hanna's significant other. She found excuses to come visit her when she knew she was alone, and always brought an abundance of food with her, and made sure to include her, and even in her slightly overwhelmed and confused state, Spencer found herself hugging Regina back. "Gosh, I'm so proud of the both of you. And honey, that speech?" Regina released her, patting her shoulders. "If you ran for office, I'd vote for you in a heartbeat."

Spencer found herself turning slightly pink. "Well thank you…I worked really hard on it."  
"I'm sure you did, honey, now if you'll excuse me…." As Regina turned to Hanna, who was awkwardly trying to navigate her mother, Ted and her father already, Jason stepped up to take her place, looking clean cut – proud made him look good. Still, as he hugged her, it lasted a few seconds more than normal, and she knew he was thinking of Ali. (Particularly by the way he nearly ripped her arm off when she pulled away from him, he had been holding onto her that tightly.)

"Good job, Spencer." He said sincerely, squeezing her shoulder. "With everything."

"Thanks Jason." She said, with a smile just as sincere – there would be more to talk about later, when everyone had left, and it was just the two of them once again. Jason had never been one to express himself in front of a crowd, at least not positively, and she knew that. There was more than enough love in the room to make up for it anyway. She glanced over his shoulder after going in for a second hug. "Oh my God – "

"You really thought I would miss my baby sister's graduation?" Melissa folded her in the tightest hug of the night, and Spencer couldn't help but beam as her sister's arms folded around her. "I got the last flight out before the rain hit. God bless Southwestern Airlines."

"Remind me to send them a thank you card." Spencer said, looking up at her. "…I really am glad you're here. Did you manage to get here in time?"

"I had to sneak in after it started." Melissa admitted. "But I made it in time for your speech, and it was excellent. I'm glad you didn't use my rewrite, it really paid off."

"Thank you." Spencer smiled. "I – "

"Spencer!" For once, hearing her parent's voices didn't instantly drop a dead weight on her good mood, or make her stomach sink to the floor. Instead, with Melissa at her side, and a lifetime's worth of effort and striving and straining behind her, with the promise of a new and better life, she merely looked at them as flies, as buzzing little annoyances, as nothing. If it showed, they didn't notice, and they approached her beaming, with programs clutched in their hands and all of their selfish desires glowing in the strained expressions. "Spencer, that was wonderful." Her mother assured her, a clinically saccharine tone dripping from her words.

"Always knew you had it in you." Peter raised his hand as though he intended to pat her reassuringly on the shoulder. At the last second, Spencer stepped away defensively to Melissa's side, leaving him waving his hand uselessly in midair.

"I think we should all go out to dinner." Ashley interjected, and as Spencer turned towards her, she saw the same disdainful look in her eyes as she glanced over the Hastings. "Melissa, you're welcome to come too, the more the merrier." She parted the crowd, giving a very final and pointed look at Peter and Veronica before folding an arm around Spencer's shoulder, decisively leading her away from the elder Hastings. "I think you did lovely, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. M – I mean, Ashley." Spencer said, glancing over her shoulder to see her parents' hollow expressions, and feeling, for once, no remorse or pity or sadness. No, it was a singular moment where she felt nothing for people that meant nothing. She faced forward, found her girlfriend's hand in the small mass of people, and left the arena with her family, finally realizing that that distinction didn't necessarily include her parents.

* * *

"_This is Spencer Hastings, I'm sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message or send me a text, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"_

Spencer, it's your mother. I just wanted to tell you how proud your father and I are of you! The members of the club wanted me to bring you around so they can congratulate you and it would only be polite. I tentatively told them I'd bring you by Saturday, so if you could call me back, we'll discuss the finer details. Thanks, sweetie.

* * *

Shifting through paperwork while sitting in a small, windowless room in Washington DC during the hottest spring on record wouldn't seem like a vacation to most people, but for Kyle Laughlin, it was a welcome and much needed break. She had paper cuts on eight of her fingertips, and had to get a tetanus shot after a rogue staple caught in her palm. She was pretty sure she was going blind from all of the black lines on white paper she was reading. She missed teaching, missed it more than anything, but for the sake of herself, and everyone else involved, she'd fled to this tiny windowless prison, slaving away for bureaucrats who didn't even know her name.

Was it punishment? Maybe, though she hadn't done anything wrong. (She'd had plenty of opportunity for all kinds of wrong things that she now entertained. Maybe it was personal punishment for her excellent sense of restraint.) And it was only until school started in September – she'd managed to secure a position in Ravenswood, far enough away from Rosewood that she'd avoid all triggers and timebombs of memories. It was just a few months out of the entirety of her life, another transient period that would pass without leaving any permanent mark, or impact.

So why did it feel so significant?

"Hey, Laughlin." She glanced up as the door was pushed open, creaking on its hinges. Chloe leaned in, hand fisted anxiously in the hem of her dress shirt. "You up for some problem solving?"

"Yeah." Anything to keep her mind from wandering to more dangerous and painful places. "What went wrong this time?"

"One of our accepted applicants dropped out, and all of the others already accepted other internships." Chloe said, tossing a file at her. She managed to snatch it out of the air without too much difficulty. "And we need to meet our quota, so…know anyone that could fill it?"

It was, at the same time, an awful and perfect thought. She was quiet for a moment before she reached over and picked up a picture frame off her desk, wiping away some of the dust that had already settled on it. It was a picture she'd taken on her last day at Rosewood High, some months ago, a picture of her entire classroom, and all of the students caught off guard and candid, some on their phones, some running their mouths, some sleeping and staring out windows. Only one bent over her notes, engaged. Only one had the textbook open in her lap, only one was wearing a soft smile with dark ringlets framing her face and her even darker eyes.

"Yeah…" Kyle said softly, after a long moment, setting the picture down. "I do know someone."

* * *

"_This is Spencer Hastings, I'm sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message or send me a text, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible – unless you're my parents. Don't leave me a message because I won't be getting back to you. Ever. Kindly fuck off. Thanks!"_

Spencer? Um, hey, it's Kyle Laughlin. If you could call me back, that would be great. I'd love to hear how you're doing, and I have something I'd like to discuss with you, if you have the time. Thanks, uh…talk to you soon. I mean, hopefully. Okay, uh, bye.

* * *

The weeks after graduation were hectic, but Spencer had expected that after seeing Melissa graduate from high school. There were parties to go to, arrangements to make, people to see, errands to be run, jobs to be worked, college plans to be finalized. Not to mention Hanna's time had been entirely monopolized by helping her mother with the wedding – between all of the graduation plans and the wedding details, they'd hardly had a chance to see each other, let alone talk. The topic of what would happen after graduation was a sore one, one that they needed to discuss, but hadn't – mostly out of fear of poisoning the short amount of time they had left before reality set in. Tentatively, Spencer had accepted enrollment at NYU, and Hanna…well, Hanna hadn't really discussed what she was doing, but one time where she'd managed to spend a few minutes with her, she'd spied applications from Hollis and a nearby community college. (And then there was the issue of the out-of-the-blue opportunity from Kyle for a summer internship down in DC, which threw a wrench in their already complicated situation.)The energy spent avoiding the topic, as well as the energy spent worrying about it, and all of the other things that Spencer had to do exhausted her emotionally and physically. So when Melissa surprised her with a three day trip to the spa on another surprise visit, she was more than willing to accept.

"Sounds like you're in a situation." Melissa said, relaxing back against the wall of the steam room, one hand firmly clamped on her towel.

"And isn't that the biggest understatement I've ever heard." Spencer sighed, settling down beside her, taking as deep a breath as she could manage. "Melissa, seriously, I don't know what to do."

"You're your own person, Spencer." Melissa said, rolling her head in Spencer's direction. "You always have been. I can't tell you what to do."

"…could you try?" Spencer asked, try to force her tone away from sheepish and failing, a small but insecure smile hanging in her expression. It wasn't that she didn't trust herself – okay, maybe it was that, at least partly. She had made so many mistakes and had bungled her relationship with Hanna more times than she could count. "I just...I can't lose her again."

Melissa opened one eye, looking at her through the steam, her curls hanging in her face. "You think I'm the expert on not losing people?" She asked. "Ian, Wren, Garrett – need I go on?"

Spencer sighed, simultaneously covering her face, the steam doing little to relax her. "Okay, so tell me what you would do if you were me, then."  
"I'd take the internship and apologize later." Melissa said instantly. "It's an amazing opportunity, and if she loves you, she'll understand that, and she'll let you go."

"…you think?" Spencer could only hope. But she knew Hanna's proclivity to jump to conclusions – almost as bad as her own tendency – and the scenarios in her head all worked out to something terrible, or at least steeped in histrionics and break-up clichés.

"I _know._ When you're in the business of losing people, you learn a lot about what doesn't work…but you also learn a lot about what _does_ work. How people work." Melissa said, poking Spencer's arm pointedly. "And if Hanna is the girl that I think she is, she'll be willing to let you go if it's going to benefit you. I mean…it's a great opportunity and you get to spend the summer living with your awesome big sister and your niece…rent-free, I might add." She continued, with a sly smile.

"When did we grow up?" Spencer asked, after a minute, finally closing her eyes and shifting around in her towel. "I mean…when did we mature enough to be nice to each other?"

Melissa shrugged. "We finally get it. I mean… We have the same parents –"

"The same screwed up upbringing – "

"The same insecurities because of that upbringing – "

"And those things kept us apart."

"Exactly." Melissa pointed out, reaching up to fix her hair, which had fallen because of the steam. "We were in competition because we thought we had to be, but really…we never had to be." She shrugged, letting her hands fall back into her lap.

"I always thought you were my greatest enemy." Spencer said, after a long silence that was thick from the steam and from the years of pent up aggression on a time release valve. "But it turns out…you could have been my best ally."

"The Hastings family…" Melissa mused, tweaking the hem of her towel. "And they say war is hell."

"Well, yeah." Spencer said, as the alarm sounded, signaling that they had exceeded the safe limit of time in the steam room. "What do you think being a Hastings really is?"

"Don't you d-dare stop, Spencer Hastings." Spencer smirked as Hanna gasped against her mouth, her teasing hand having slipped back down Hanna's thigh for a brief interlude. The night before had been the exhausting bachelorette party for Hanna's mom, and she had graciously allowed Spencer to crash there rather than returning home. (At that point, Spencer wasn't sure if she actually knew about their 'shenanigans,' so to speak, or had just accepted them.)

Hanna grabbed her wrist with her free hand, bringing it back up between her thighs as Spencer closed the kiss again, hissing slightly as Hanna pulled at her hair. Her system was surging with nervous energy, her body swirling with it, and it push her forward, rushed her. She shattered the kiss, mouthing along her jaw before kissing her neck, sucking on a pulse point, too unsettled to sit still – of course, Hanna couldn't tell the difference, and even if she could, it wasn't like it wasn't all for her benefit anyway. Inside her, she arched her hand, and couldn't help but smirk against her neck as Hanna couldn't manage to swallow down any of her gasps.

Hanna's hips rocked up against her hand as she buried her face in her hair. "Fuck, Spencer…" Her breath came in little puffs and gasps and she couldn't keep her hands still, moving them from her shoulders, to her arms, to her back where she left scratches, to her waist, to the back of her thighs and all over again. "Spencer, please, I'm so – "

"Hanna?" Ashley's voice was loud and followed by a short, rapid knock. Were she not preoccupied, Spencer would have noticed how frantic she sounded. But the impending nuptials notwithstanding, they were both a little preoccupied. "Hanna, Spencer went home, right? It's time to get ready!"

"I…I'm a little….busy at the moment!" Hanna's tone hitched, and although she knew she would pay for it later, Spencer couldn't resist. She smirked against her neck, curling her fingers inside her, giggling against her skin to muffle the sound of her self-satisfaction. The hard yank Hanna executed on her hair as she couldn't hold back a small yelp was more than worth it.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, mom, just…" Hanna coughed a little to catch her breath, digging her nails into Spencer's shoulder. "…burned myself with the curling iron." Her fingertips curled in her hair, pressing against her head as she jerked towards Spencer's hand. "I'll be there to help you…in a minute…okay?"

"Are you alright, Hanna?" The fight to conceal her glee was a difficult one, but Spencer managed as she pushed Hanna on her back, cupping the back of her neck to kiss her, hard and brief, nudging her thighs to part further. "You're not getting sick, are you?"

"Just…busy!" Hanna's voice leapt up an octave, though stilled from its previous shaking. "I can't talk and do my hair at the same time!" Her words, however, were lost on Spencer, too entranced by her, enmeshed in her to worry. She curved her hand again, in just the right way, knowing exactly what she needed, wanted, and with her mother outside the room, separated by only a wooden door, she pushed her over the edge and out of control.

"Alright…" Ashley said, as Hanna gasped, burying her face in Spencer's hair, in the side of her neck, swearing against her skin, the motion of her mouth like a prayer, something she could worship. As Ashley walked away, Hanna rolled more fully against her side, her heaving chest fitting perfectly against her. Their limbs were still tangled in the sheets, leaving them in a mess, a swathed nest of cotton that smelled of fabric softener and Hanna's perfume, the early morning sun bearing down on them gently, not like the beating of a hot summer day. Everything, Spencer reflected, as Hanna pulled her face out of her neck and their hands closed together through layers of sheets, the tender touch of her fingertips still resonating through the threads, was exactly as it should have been.

Did she still have to break that equilibrium, and soon? Yes. But a few more moments of serenity surely wouldn't harm either of them.

"I guess this means I need to go…" Spencer sighed, eyes wandering over Hanna's face, taking in her features, still natural from sleep, like a landscape. She reached out, tracing along the line of her cheek, taking in the velvety feeling of her skin beneath her fingertips. Still, that could not calm her internalized urgency. "Hey, later, when you have time, I need to…talk to you about something."

If the phrase made Hanna nervous, she had put up a perfect façade. "Okay, Spence." Her voice was slightly weak and winded, but the corners of her mouth still turned up in an impish smile. "And yeah, you do need to go get hot for later…but not too hot, because I'm a bridesmaid, and I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to outshine me."

"Is that in the wedding handbook?" Spencer couldn't help but laugh.

"It should be."

Spencer pressed her forehead to Hanna's, exhaling quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You're lucky I love you." She said, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, an odd feeling spiraling through her chest – really, she was lucky that Hanna loved her.

"Say that again." Hanna let go of Spencer's hand finally, bringing her arms to wrap around the brunette's neck.

"You're lucky I love you."

"No, the last part."

"I love you." The words formed so easily, so natural to her now, so much more and yet so much less than they'd used to mean. Before they had been big and something frightening, something she had unknowingly lived in fear of. But they had since shrunk in size, simultaneously becoming the biggest thing she'd ever been a part of.

"I never get tired of hearing that." Hanna leaned forward, kissing her briefly, a burst of light and faint cherry flavor. "Now get the hell out of here." She sat up as Spencer slipped out of bed, pulling her shoes on. "A girlfriend should never see the bridesmaid before the wedding."

"Okay." Spencer said, pausing as she perched on the lattice outside the window. "Now I know you made that up."

"Doesn't matter." Hanna's grin was wicked and wild and Spencer's hope for the future had never been higher. She knew she'd do whatever she had to, to keep Hanna in her life. It wasn't a choice – it was an inevitability. "My mom's getting married, I have poetic license."

"I think you mean artistic license."

"Whatever."

* * *

"You're cutting it kind of close, aren't you?" Emily asked, as Spencer sank down against the pew next to her. "They're supposed to start in five minutes."

"Yeah, well…Hanna got a late start." Spencer swept her hair back over her shoulder, having kept it simple by pulling it to one side, her own late start intruding on her appearance – although not in a bad way, necessarily. "So I figure we have at least fifteen more minutes before the processional starts."

"Is there ever an opportunity where the two of you decide to keep your hands off of each other?" Emily asked, unable to conceal a slight smirk as she glanced at her sideways.

"Someone's just jealous that her girlfriend's out of state for the next month." Spencer replied, glancing away from her. Having someone in the same situation as herself and Hanna didn't help as much as she hopes it would, when she realized – in fact, it only made it worse, especially when Paige and Emily were faring so well.

"Speaking of which, have you told Hanna yet?"

Spencer sighed, sliding down in the church pew. "I didn't really want to mess her up this morning, out of all mornings, and I wasn't too keen on becoming a bachelorette at last night's bachelorette party." Her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought. "I like irony, but that's an overdose."

"You just have to be honest with her, Spencer. That's all." Emily assured her, taking one of her hands. "It won't be nearly as bad as you're thinking it's going to be if you're just honest with her. Which, I might add, you're running out of time for."

"Don't remind me." Spencer said, closing her eyes for a minute, thinking of the week she had left. "I'll tell her tomorrow. Her mom will be gone on her honeymoon, and it will just be her and me, and we can talk and…and it will all work out. It has to." She sat up more, squaring her shoulders against the stiff back of the church pew. If she believed herself hard enough, maybe the fantasy would come true, and she really could have it all. Hope had proven to be one of her greatest downfalls time and time again, but not all things were hopeless.

As if on cue, as if occurring only to give her hope, the music started playing, the dulcet tones and smooth, playful notes dancing in the air that was heavy with the scent of flowers. Everything would be alright, she told herself, smiling genuinely as she watch Hanna glide down the aisle, looking every bit the Grecian goddess with a crown of silver leaves in her perfectly set hair and a white and blue dress, flowing at the ankles. She met her gaze, and a warm smile slowly smoothed over her pink lips – how could anything go wrong?

* * *

"_This is Spencer Hastings, I'm sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message or send me a text, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"_

Um, hi Spencer. It's Kyle again, I really need to hear back from you if you're going to be here next week or not. I understand, I mean, it's short notice and it's a lot to ask, but…you know, it's a really great opportunity, and, honestly, I wouldn't mind catching up with you – not that that should influence your decision or anything, I'm just…saying. Anyway, uh, call me back. I'll be waiting to hear from you. Okay…bye.

* * *

The anxiety of her pending revelation made the wedding cake sour in her mouth, and she'd pushed it weakly away with even a weaker excuse, but other than that, Spencer was mildly content, sitting at the reception of Ashley and Ted's wedding. Emily had taken a phone call from Paige nearly a half hour before, and Hanna was busy at the head table, greeting everyone, making sure her mother – who only had eyes for Ted, admittedly – was taken care of. It was the first time in the past month or so that, even though she was sitting in a crowded reception hall, that she was alone, with herself, with her thoughts, with her options. It was dizzying, but it was much needed, and she closed her eyes to the ambient sounds of the room and leaned back in her chair. The noise was so much that she was able to lose herself in it, the snatches of inappropriate conversations, the music playing over by the dance floor, the clattering of silverware, clashing with the cacophony of footsteps –

"Honeybunch, I know you ain't sleeping."

Spencer almost fell off of her chair, gripping the sides of it to regain control, whipping her head to the side violently as Regina Marin took the seat next to her. "Jesus! I mean…sorry." Spencer took a deep breath. "I was just thinking."

"Oh, I know." There was a drink in her hand but she didn't seem the least bit diminished. In fact, she seemed even sharper, if that were possible. "Thinkin' awful hard. This is a wedding, go grab Hanna and pull her out to the dance floor, and just have some fun." She reached out, patting her hand.

Spencer laughed a little. "I'd love to, but she looks a little busy." She glanced over to the head table, where one of the ushers, whom had been introduced to her as Graham, the son of Ted's best man, was hanging over Hanna, trying to show her something on his phone. "And I don't think it would be appropriate to punch a member of the wedding party." The only thing that had kept her from doing so thus far was that Hanna couldn't look more disinterested.

"It's harmless, honey, but…here." She discreetly passed her drink to her, and Spencer gratefully took a sip. "Now what's got you so worried – and don't even pretend that you aren't, because it's written all over your pretty little face."

Spencer could lie to a lot of people – to her parents, to her siblings, to her friends. But there was something about the Marin family, Hanna, Ashley and Regina, that just pulled the truth right out of her like it was nothing. "I got an internship. With the Senator's office down in DC. I didn't even have to apply, they offered it to me, and if I got experience right before I went to college, I'd be ahead of the game, but if I take it, I have to leave I a week and spend the whole summer down there, and then I'd have to go right to school and – "

"Breathe, honeybunch." Spencer hadn't even realized she had been speaking so fast until Regina interrupted her. "First of all, take a second to be proud of yourself, because that's a big accomplishment. I'm proud of you, honey. Second, what is it that's making you so upset? Hanna? Because she'll be just as proud of you as I am. And she'll be there for you when you get back."

"It's not that simple." Spencer shook her head. Despite her proclivity to hope in spite of everything, she was conditioned to see the worst happening. And why wouldn't it?

"You'd be surprised." Regina glanced up at the head table, as did Spencer, and caught Hanna's eye, who waved at her grandmother before beaming back at Spencer, with a smaller, more intimate wave of her fingertips, held close to her chest. "Look at her. I have never seen that girl so happy as I've seen her with you. And you." She turned her eagle eye back to Spencer. "I remember you when you were little, and you were always so closed off, like one of them little dogs that can't stop shaking. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I saw you smile before the two of you were together. Trust her, trust yourself, and trust me." She squeezed her hand. "You've got a good thing going. And I know you don't know what that feels like, but trust it."

Spencer didn't speak at first, trying to comprehend it. She supposed she was right – after all, Regina usually was. If anything was going to tear them apart, it was the anxieties and mistakes of the past. It was relying too much on what could go wrong, which, unfortunately, was a hallmark of both of them. "You're right." She finally said, with a small smile. "You're absolutely right…thank you."

"I'm not saying it won't be hard." Regina said. "Or that it will all be smooth sailing. It never is. Me and Hanna's grandfather fought like cats and dogs for twenty years before we finally ran out of things to fight about – turns out we just liked yellin'. But the point is, even though it was hard, Honeybunch, it never stopped working." Regina stood after another hand squeeze, taking her drink back. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to cut a rug on the dance floor – and I suggest you and Hanna do the same." She added, with a pointed look, before departing.

Spencer watched her go, her anxiety no less pervasive, but feeling better nonetheless. She snatched some champagne off a passing waiter's tray before he could notice and downed it, before setting the glass aside and moving over to the head table. "Excuse me." She leaned between Graham and Hanna, kicking his arm aside not so subtly. "I'd like to dance with my girlfriend now, maybe you could find someone else to amuse with your hilarious memes. I think there's a group of twelve year olds out in the hallway." She punctuated the sentence with a sweet smile, before taking Hanna's hand and pulling her away from the table.

"If I had to see another rage comic, I would have turned into one." Hanna said, leaning against Spencer's shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist. "I was hoping you'd come rescue me."

Spencer smiled a little, turning her face against Hanna's head, inhaling and closing her eyes, memorizing for when things would inevitably begin to get hard. "You never needed me to come and rescue you…you can do it all by yourself."

"I guess." Hanna stepped off her heels, resting her head on Spencer's chest. "But it's still nice to have someone else do it for a change."

"…I know what you mean."

* * *

The cherry flavor was faint on her mouth, but it still sparked across her tongue, subtle and sweet, especially as Hanna twisted her fingertips in Spencer's fallen tresses. Her legs and feet ached from so much standing, and in heels, but she barely felt it, wrapping her pain up in the warmth that trickled down across her body. Her hands rested on Hanna's waist, guiding her back against the wall of the entryway to the reception hall, trembling slightly as she broke the kiss. "You know I'll be over tomorrow, right?"

"Mmm, yeah." Hanna sighed, running her hands down along Spencer's chest, a lazy and contented look on her features, simultaneously comforting her, and driving her anxiety levels up considerably – how could she shatter this? "This is going to be the best two weeks ever, just you and me, and not having to climb out of a window in the morning."

"Yeah, I – " It was right there. On the tip of her tongue. It was the perfect opportunity to mention it. Just do it, Spencer, just get it over with, just tell her already. " – yeah. It will be." Her smile wavered but stuck, and she chased away the leaden feeling of guilt by kissing her again. One hand splayed against the small of her back, holding her in place, the ease of Hanna's hands threading their way through her hair soothing her nerves most effectively.

"Spencer Hastings?" The voice echoed in the chamber almost immediately after the kiss broke.

"Yes?" Spencer said, after a sharp inhale, trying to compose herself. The dark haired, well put together woman didn't look familiar to her. "Can I help you?"

"No, I was just wondering…I'm Chloe, Chloe Dawning? Ted's my cousin, I came up for the wedding, but I work with the placement program. This is so weird!" She reached out, taking Spencer's hand and shaking it, watching Spencer's confused reaction. "Oh, right, I never spoke to you directly, but Kyle told me so much about you."

She could practically hear her stomach crash against the ground, the only louder sound that of Hanna's contentment shattering. "…she did?"

"Oh, yeah, and if you're anything even close to what she said about you, I am looking forward to seeing what you can do down in DC. Six more days." Never in her life had she wanted someone to stop talking so much. She'd take having to send the incriminating email about her sexuality to her parents over and over again instead of this. She'd rather let A torture her for the rest of her life. Anything else but this. It was like watching a car wreck. She couldn't deny it, she couldn't look away, she couldn't leave. She could only lift up her head, smile, nod, and say "Yes. I am."

"About what?" Later, she wouldn't remember how Chloe had excused herself. All she could focus on was Hanna's tone of voice, the way she shoved past her to look at her. She was tense and restrained, but somehow hollow, in the way she spoke and the way she moved. "What's happening in six days, Spencer? In DC, she said?"

Spencer had never felt smaller in her life. No…no, this wasn't happening again. "I was going to tell you tomorrow, after the wedding was over, I – "

"Tell me what?" To her credit, Hanna was trying really hard. She could see it in her restraint, hear it in her tone. She was trying so hard to not jump to conclusions and derail everything like it had happened before. But Spencer could feel the familiar feeling of dread creeping up on her, crawling along the back of her neck like an unwanted insect that she couldn't reach to swat away. It was happening again. She knew it. And she could only sit back and watch. "I'm waiting, Spencer."

"I got offered a three month internship with the Senator's office down in DC." Spencer explained slowly, though she knew it would do her no good. "It's an amazing opportunity, I'd be ahead of everyone before I even started college. I didn't even have to apply, they just offered it to me. So I took it, and I'm – "

"You took it without even asking me?!" Anger? It was there for sure, heavy in her expression, but there was also something far more devastating too, in the way her jaw dropped lamely open and she brought her hand up to her face – in the way she wasn't crying. "How could you even – you can't just make decisions like this without asking me! You can't just expect me to go along with whatever you want, that's not how this is supposed to work!" Hanna covered her face with both hands, turning away before turning back, shaking her head, her chest heaving. Spencer could only watch her spiral – there was no taking it back or undoing it. "We're supposed to be adults, you know? And…and consult about this stuff, and make plans, and figure it out together! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Hanna, I'm sorry!" Spencer gasped. And she was. Every part of her was aflame with apologies, burning everything else away. Her pride, her excitement, and even her hope, though that was no stranger to the flames of self-induced destruction. "I just…I thought you'd be angry, that you'd freak out, I – "

"I cannot believe you, Spencer Hastings." Hanna shoved her clutch purse at Spencer's chest with such a force that it would later leave a bruise. That did not, however, stop her own hands from covering Hanna's. "How could you think that I wouldn't be proud of you? Am I that awful? Yeah, maybe I would have been a little ticked off that I couldn't spend my whole summer with you, but…but you're right. It's an amazing opportunity and I want the best for you, I always have…how could you ever think anything else?"

"Hanna – "

"Don't." The blonde snapped, ripping her arm away. "Go home, Spencer. Pack. Get ready. Whatever. I don't want to see you right now."

"Hanna, please – "

"Go home." Hanna repeated, the tears finally beginning to well up in her eyes, falling onto her porcelain features like some sort of Renaissance painting, invoking images of Botticelli. "Please, Spencer, just go home." Her voice had broken from its previous harshness, losing all of its force, revealing the true pain behind her anger. Spencer's stomach twisted, her chest heavy, feeling too much to even begin to be disgusted with herself. "Please."

Spencer found herself nodding. "Okay." Her own voice was soft, curling away to nothingness, her heels sounding hollow on the concrete sidewalk. The distance didn't ease any of it – it only made it worse, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was some horrible omen of what would become of them when she left.

* * *

The plastic crinkled in her hands as she flexed her grip around the bouquet. Yellow roses with pink tips – Hanna's favorite, and the best sort of peace offering when she knew she had messed up. Spencer had lain awake for a while before getting dressed at about 3 am and waiting in front of the flower shop before it opened. Of course, that had given her ample time to realize her mistakes, yet again. The part that killed her though, the part that really killed her, was that she somehow hadn't learned.

She could traipse across the pages of a math textbook with ease, learn equations, memorize numbers. Physics? It was like muscle memory now. She didn't even have to think. French literature was like a second language. Why was this so hard to translate? Why was her relationship so difficult to retain?

She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the roses. That didn't matter now, though. She had five more days to fit in an entire summer of spending time with Hanna, and she didn't have time to philosophize about it. Checking to make sure the flowers looked good, she turned up the front steps to the Marin house and rang the doorbell. (Okay…so it was six in the morning, and Hanna might not be the happiest to see her. But it was all in the interest of giving them as much time together as possible.)

She stood there, the early morning sun beating down on her exposed neck, her heart rate, admittedly higher than normal, marking the seconds that ticked by. They seemed long, her stomach churning with anticipation, and even though it had probably only been thirty seconds, it felt like an hour had passed with nothing, so she rang the bell again.

The door opened, and she was face to face with a bare muscular chest, apparently fresh from the shower, that smelled like Hanna's soap, but was most definitely not Hanna. Further inspection of the clearly not-Hanna intruder revealed a towel slung low around his hips, scruff lining his sharp jaw, and short but curly dark hair that was shiny and wet. She knew that face. She knew those arms. They had been slung so casually around Hanna's shoulders at the wedding, and the image of that made her stomach turn. The image of him now confused her – what could he possibly be doing there? "…Graham?" She asked, her skepticism leeching into her voice.

"Oh, uh…Spencer, right?" He took a step back, his eyes widening a little. "Look, I, don't get pissed, alright, she was like…really upset, you know?" The words weren't computing. Something wasn't translating right. Her wires were crossed, something. It just wasn't clicking. "And I mean, you're a chick, you know they – well, you – get when they're upset, I mean…"

"No, I don't." She knew what was going on. But it still wasn't clicking. Her stomach was dropping and her chest hurt, and there were goosebumps sweeping across her skin, but she didn't understand. She wanted it in the form of a logic proof, of an equation, of a French to English translation. Not like this. "What's going on?"

"Spencer…"

She had always known that Hanna was her key to understanding the parts of the world that she couldn't already fathom. She was her calculator, her lexicon, her cipher. She was always more than just her axis. But she wasn't prepared for how hard it hit her when Hanna came down the stairs, robe open, hair disheveled, expression haughty and yet somehow guilty at the same time. Seeing her was like finding the one word answer in an eight hundred page textbook, and it hit her in the chest like a wrecking ball.

"Here." Her voice cracked far more than she wanted it to as she thrust the flowers at Graham, the thorns cutting through the plastic and biting into her hands. "It's your lucky day." She barely noticed the sting against the solid disbelief rising in her chest, and the cold, cutting feeling of certainty – but even that wasn't colder than her sub-zero anger, freezing everything in her in a matter of seconds, her heart mid-beat, her blood solid in her veins, everything. Little bits of her shattered with every step she took down the pathway and onto the sidewalk.

"Spencer…Spencer, wait…" She could hear the sound of Hanna coming after her, of her bare feet on the sun warmed pavement. She could hear the rustle of fabric as she fought with the tie of her robe. "Spencer, I can explain…"

"I'm not an idiot, Hanna, you've made it perfectly clear." Her voice suddenly settled back into place as she glanced over her shoulder at her – she couldn't even manage a full turn to face her. Later, she wouldn't remember what she looked like, but she would remember how it felt – delightfully evil and self-loathingly painful, as she spoke. "You really are that awful."

* * *

Her senses were out of control, firing on all cylinders. The noise of the crowds in the airport was overwhelming, the scent of Melissa's perfume as she sat next to her, though pleasant, was overpowering, the rough fabric of airport chairs against her bare calves, it was all too much. She'd been rubbed raw, an exposed nerve, everything hurt, everything resonated, but she supposed she preferred that to feeling nothing.

"She's not going to come, you know."

Spencer ignored Melissa, and all the offending stimuli. Instead, her focus remained on the as-of-yet unanswered text message she'd sent to Hanna two days before her imminent departure.

_ I forgive you. Come to DC with me. Friday, 9 am. We'll work it out._

The lack of response was mildly disconcerting, but it was an odd request, and in the wee hours of that morning, she'd found herself hoping yet again, her eternal curse, her loathed master. How could Hanna refuse? After all, what she'd done, it was all out of anger. It was out of passion, it was out of caring. Spencer knew she still meant something to her. She had to. After everything they'd been through together, after everything they'd overcome, this…this was nothing. It was just another obstacle, like those thrown up by –A. They could do this. They'd beaten everything else. Hanna just needed to show up. "She'll be here." Spencer whispered. "I left her a ticket and an itinerary, she'll be here."

The numbers on the phone changed. 8:53. They'd been there for two hours now, and there was no sign of her. But, somehow, that only made Spencer hope more. They'd always pulled out a by-the-skin-of-their-teeth victory at the last minute, this time wasn't going to be any different.

"Is she even worth it?" Melissa asked, her tone full of acid. "If she does show up, I'm gonna smack her, I swear to God."

"Of course she's worth it." Spencer sighed, rolling her eyes in her direction. "She just made a mistake. besides, I cheated on her first – "

"You didn't cheat on her, you were on a break." Melissa cut in.

"This isn't some stupid episode of Friends, Melissa, this is my life." Spencer snapped, shrinking slightly at Melissa's reproachful look. "Sorry, I just…" She leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. "…I love her, Melissa. And this is killing me, and I don't know what to do." She didn't realizes she was crying until Melissa pulled her head against her chest, and she could feel the hat tears on her face.

"Shhh…" Melissa's grip tightened as the final boarding call went over the loudspeaker. "Spencer, we can't wait any longer."

The words and the boarding call struck a chord of finality in her chest, leaving a quiet and solemn tone echoing hollowly in the space of her body. She ripped away from Melissa, stuffing her hands in her pockets, peering curiously as she could manage at the contents as she turned it out, waiting in line to board. A tube of cherry flavored lipgloss, Hanna's favorite brand. She'd called Spencer in a panic on the morning of the wedding, asking her to run and get some. It was what had made her so late – it turned out she hadn't needed it anyway, but Spencer had been happy to do it.

She closed her eyes as the plane took off, forcing herself to not look out the window forlornly, like some rom com cliché that Hanna would have liked. The seatbelt sign flashed off, and she crossed over Melissa unceremoniously, every step feeling heavy, every sound loud and clawing at her sensibilities until she made it to the tiny cubicle of a bathroom at the back of the section.

Spencer climbed up to sit on the edge of the sink, holding the lipgloss in her hands, remaining still as if in prayer for a long moment, before she finally turned to the mirror, applying the lipgloss with a surprisingly steady hand. Despite the early hour, she was painfully awake, and painfully aware, the cherry flavor anything but sweet.

* * *

_The number you have dialed is out of service. Please try again at a later time._


End file.
